


Why Does This Shit Happen to Me?: A Patrick Stump Story

by BookMonsterEliz



Series: Super Powered Bandom AU [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, The Academy Is...
Genre: Accidental Threesome, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bodyswap, Friendship, M/M, Metahumans, Patrick hates his life, Sharing a Bed, Warped Tour 2005, don't judge me it just happened ok, such a cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-10 06:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14731644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookMonsterEliz/pseuds/BookMonsterEliz
Summary: The setting is Warped Tour 2005. Patrick is just trying to beat the heat and the next thing he knows, he's not quite himself anymore. This is the story of how he copes with being Gerard Way for a week. There's lots of pointless fluff, it just sort of happened, I did not plan for this, ok?Expect some lolz, some pointless fluff and cuddles, and band supportiveness and togetherness, and a dash of angst





	1. I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream for Ice Cream

Florida was super hot. Patrick figured that shouldn’t be such a revelation, as it was July, and again, Florida, but he was ready to cool down, like yesterday. But hey, it was the Warped tour, so who was he to complain? He and the band had played about an hour before, and the other guys were busy with other things, so he decided to go out in search of the ice cream stand on his own. As he stepped around a merc tent, he ran into a small crowd of teenage girls in front of the ice cream stand, all pressed around a guy clad in a black hoodie with long tendrils of black hair falling in his eyes, shuffling his feet, his ice cream cone melting into his hand. He’d met Gerard Way before and they’d hung out a few times. He was a good dude. 

 

“Oh, pleeeeeaaaase?! Just one picture?” 

“Just one, Gerard!” 

The girls were mobbing him, sqeeing with joy, and having no idea of personal space. As he walked closer he realized there were about eight of them, and Gerard was doing his best to mollify them and eat the quickly melting ice cream cone. Patrick felt bad for him, and debated coming back later, but he was hot, and he wanted his ice cream, darn it. 

Hunching his shoulders, Patrick tried to sneak around the small mob, and he managed to pay for his own ice cream before they realized who he was. 

 

“OHMYGOD!!!! It’s Patrick StUUUUUMP!!!” one of the teens shrieked, ending his stealthiness. 

 

He gave a little wave, with the hand not holding his ice cream. Gerard met his gaze, looking very relieved to have some sort of backup. He grimaced back in return. The girls didn’t let Gerard go, however; and soon the singers found themselves standing together, posing for pictures, ice cream melting down their hands, uneaten. After a few minutes, Gerard started shuffling back towards the merc tents, and Patrick happily followed in his wake, though most of the ever growing pack of teenage girls continued to cling to them. He tried to be as nice as possible, answering their questions between bites of ice cream, smiling for their cameras but he was feeling impatient, tired after a hot day playing in the sun, and he could tell Gerard felt the same. 

 

Soon enough, they hit the end of the line of merc tents, and the rope that separated them from the band caravan’s. 

 

“Ok, guys, we’ve gotta get going, and it’s band members only passed this point!” Patrick said, cheerily. 

 

A few of the girls groaned and there was still some clamoring for pictures. 

 

“Ok, just one more, ladies, then we’ve gotta vamanos.” Gerard said, smiling at the crazy teens. 

 

The remaining teens snapped their pics and wandered away, until there was just one left, a tiny slip of a thing with an MCR tshirt and her dyed purple hair twisted in two little buns on top of her head. She posed with Gerard first, grabbing his hand and babbling her thanks, before hopping over to Patrick, snapping a quick picture, and then throwing her arms around him in thanks before dancing away. 

 

Patrick shook his head as he watched her go, feeling a little dizzy. He shut his eyes, hoping that would help him regain his equilibrium and push away the dull ache starting to form behind them, but it didn’t help. He figured he should head to the bus, and turned to follow Gerard, who was also clutching his head as he duct under the rope. 

 

“Hey, come on.” 

 

Patrick stepped forward, reaching for the rope the other singer was holding up for him. Their hands brushed as Gerard stepped back, and Patrick suddenly felt like he was going to throw up. He stumbled forward, ground no longer stable beneath him. He didn’t know if he should be clutching his stomach, which felt like it was about to drop out of his body, his head, which felt like it was about to explode with pain, or his throat, which was currently having a hard time drawing in any air. As he felt himself hit the grass, he groaned, wishing he had skipped out on the ice cream. 

 

When he woke up, he was flat on his back with something heavy on top of him. With his eyes shut tight, he took stock of himself. His head still hurt, but now it was just a dull ache. Fingers and toes were in working order, though moving them felt weird, vaguely off. His stomach didn’t hurt anymore though it would be nice to have whatever was on it, off. He opened his eyes, pushing his hair out of them, blinking in surprise. 

 

The weight on his stomach was himself. Patrick closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. 

Yup, still there. Red hair a mess thanks to his now missing hat, soundly knocked out and gently drooling on his stomach. 

“Holy smokes!” He cried, shoving the other him off his lap and scrambling back in the grass. 

To his horror his voice had come out different than usual, scratchy, sounding suspiciously like Gerard. Before he could think on that any further his other self hit his head solidly on the ground and started up, blue eyes wide in surprise.

“Ow! What the actual fucking hell?!” 

They stared at each other in horror, and his other self let out a stream of curses that was quite frankly impressive though so so weird to hear in his own voice. 

“Who the hell are you and why are you me?” The second Patrick demanded.

Patrick looked down at himself, and things slowly started to piece together. He was wearing the black sweatshirt and tight black jeans Gerard had been wearing. He felt his face, no glasses, long black strands of hair falling in his eyes instead.

 

“Oh no. This can't be happening. Gerard?”

“Yeah. Patrick?” The other him said.

“I think. I think we just got swapped.”

“Fuuuuuuck.” The other him, Gerard, moaned, flopping down on the grass.

“Oh my god.” Patrick's hands started to tremble and he felt like he was about to cry. 

“How the hell did this happen? Oh my god, our bands! We have to play tomorrow! What are we going to do? How are we going to fix this?”

“Shit if I know, man.” 

“Oh my god, hearing my own voice is so weird. Talking in yours is so weird! I think, I think I'm going to puke.”

Patrick rolled over and heaved into the grass.

Gerard’s hands, his hands, were on his back, rubbing gentle circles, and Patrick tried not to flinch as the other man held his hair back as he emptied his, Gerard's, stomach into the grass. 

Patrick pulled away once he felt like he was done, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Better?” Gerard asked.

He shook his head no. Hearing someone else use his voice was just too freaky. 

“What are we going to do?”

“I don't know man, figure out a way to reverse this. We should probably go check on the guys. Maybe this happened to them too.”

Patrick took the hand Gerard held out to him and let himself be pulled to his feet. He took a shaky step forward. 

“Woah, being tall is weird.” Patrick said, making a face. 

He looked down at himself, no, Gerard, who only laughed back up at him. 

“I haven't been this short since I was like 12. Man, Frankie is going to give me so much shit for being shorter than him.”

“That's the least of our worries.”

Patrick dug into his pants pocket to find his phone, realizing as he pulled it out that it was Gerard's. With a raised eyebrow Gerard reached into his pants pocket and pulled out Patrick's phone, tossing it to him. Patrick muttered a thanks and gave him his phone. 

“We should call the guys, see where they are.”

“Yeah. Good call, but won't they think it's weird to hear the wrong voice?”

“They'll get over it.” Patrick said, needing to hear his friends voice.

 

He quickly pulled up Andy's number and pressed to call, hoping the other man would answer. The phone rang once, twice, and then again before Andy picked up.

_ “Hello?” _

“Hey, Andy. Where are you? Are you ok?”

_ “Patrick? Yeah, I'm fine. Are you ok? You sound… Is this Gerard?” _

“Uh, yeah. I need to see you guys, it's an emergency. Where are you?”

_ “I’m at the bus with Joe. Is Patrick ok?” _

“No, but I'll explain when I get there. Where's Pete?”

_ “He's on your bus with Mikey.” _

“Ok. Ok, stay there, we'll be there in a minute.”

_ “Ok man. We'll be here.” _

 

He hung up and listened as Gerard asked Mikey to collect Pete and the rest of their band and head over to the Fall Out Boy bus.

It was surreal. He took a deep breath, fingers twitching. He pushed with his mind trying to understand, but that usual ease in seeing what was going on in a situation was just beyond his grasp.

“Hey, we'll figure this out Patrick.” Gerard said, hand on his arm.

“Yeah, we will. It's just so weird.” Patrick said, leading the way to his bus. 

Weird was an understatement. Walking in a body that isn’t his is predictably awkward. The ground is further away, his stride is longer. He isn’t wearing a hat, and he feels weirdly exposed, tall, hatless, and with fingers that are itching for something, he doesn’t know what. They reach the bus before he figures it out. 

All of their band members are squeezed into the small living room/kitchenette, and they all look up expectantly as the two singers step in. 

 

“Patrick! Is everything ok?” Pete asks from where he’d been lounging against the tv. 

Patrick stepped forward, wanting nothing more than a hug from his best friend, his best friend who was looking past him to the other singer in the doorway. 

“Gee?” Frank was quick to latch onto his arm- Gerard’s arm. 

Patrick awkwardly stepped away, regretting it immediately when Frank looked down with an expression like a kicked puppy. 

“Hey, Frank.” Gerard, in his body, stepped forward, pulling the guitarist into a half hug. 

The room settled into a confused quiet as the other guys looked between the two singers. 

“We uh kind of had an accident guys.” Patrick said, eyes pleading with Pete’s to understand. 

“I’m not Patrick,” Gerard said, shrugging and pointing to his body, “He is, and I’m Gerard.” 

“Oh my god, how is this my life?” groaned Ray. 

“Really, guys? You’re kidding, right? Joe said, highly skeptical. 

“I wish we were!” Patrick said, shooting him a glare. 

“Prove it.” Frank said.

“What?!” Patrick exclaimed as Gerard just rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah,” said Joe, “How do we know you guys aren’t just trying to prank us? 

“Joe! Really?” Andy said, shooting him a disappointed look.

“Sure, Frankie, I can do that. After your shower last night I caught you raiding Mikey’s bag for clean underwear.” Gerard said, tone smug. 

“Dude!” Mikey exclaimed, one eyebrow disappearing under his bangs in judgement.

“Look, mine were all dirty and you said you packed extras…”

“Gross man.” Joe said.

“So, back to the problem, what happened? How did you guys get switched?” Andy said.

“We don't know.” Patrick said, with a sigh.

“Walk us through where you were and what you were doing.” Ray said.

Gerard settled down on the floor of the cramped bus, while Joe made room for Patrick to perch on the arm of the couch. Patrick motioned for Gerard to start.

 

“So Bob had mentioned that there was an ice cream truck by the merch tables and it's hot as fuck so I went to check it out. I got kinda mobbed by fans, but not too bad, just some young girls. Patrick showed up and they noticed him too. We talked to them a bit then headed for the busses. We took a few pictures with them, then when we ducked under the rope to get into the restricted area we both fucking passed out, cold. When we woke up we had swapped.”

“Worse ice cream trip ever.” Patrick muttered.

“Maybe it was the ice cream.” Bob said. 

Mikey scoffed and Ray buried his head in his hands again while Joe cracked up laughing.

“What are we going to do to get them switched back? We have a show tomorrow.” Pete asked, making everyone go quiet again.

“Fuck.” Frank said, voicing what everyone was thinking.

“Oh god, what is Brian going to say?!” Gerard moaned, leaning back into Frank's legs.

“Oh shit. Maybe they won't let us play. Remember last year when that one band got sent home because they kept changing into animals?” Joe said.

“Yeah, John looked good as a puppy.” Bob said, snickering.

“We can't get sent home! Noooooo!” Frank wailed.

“Come on guys, they can still sing.” Andy said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“Yeah, but will management let them?” Pete asked, voice sharp.

“They will if they don't know about it! Maybe this is just temporary and we just need to sleep it off.” Patrick said.

He was not going to be the reason the bands got sent home and missed out on the tour. He hoped, desperately, that they could find an easy way to switch back. They had to.

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Ray said, looking around the room, “We should get you guys down to the med tent and let them sort this out.”

“And risk getting pulled?” Patrick said.

“Isn't your ability healing?” Pete asked Ray.

“Yeah, which means I can patch up your skinned knee, not switch them back!” Ray said, gesturing wildly between the two singers.

“We need a telepath.” Mikey said.

“Which they might have at the med tent.” Ray said.

“They don't.” Bob said,sounding very sure.

“And you know this how?” Ray crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his band mate.

“Because I might have spent some time with one of the nurses last week, ok?” 

Ray groaned, shaking his head.

“Well, does anyone else know of a telepath on tour?” Gerard asked, happy to steer the conversation away from Bob's conquests.

The rest of the group all shook their heads no. Most telepaths liked to stay away from crowded places like crazy concerts and the resulting circus of band trailers.

“Ray’s right, we should get you both to the med tent and let our managers know.” Andy said.

“No, I’m with Patrick,” Gerard said, “there's too much risk. I think we should all ask around for a telepath. Ray, maybe you could double check at the med tent, just to be sure? If everyone asks around, discreetly of course, see if this has happened to anyone else, of anyone who knows how to fix it. Maybe Patrick's right and this is just a weird temporary thing that'll go away on its own overnight.”

“Yes! Please, please don't say anything guys. Let's see if we can figure it out or wait it out. Please!” Patrick asked. 

“Patrick, are you sure? You know if this doesn't fix itself overnight you'll have to sing for Gerard, right? Same for you, Gerard, you’d have to sing for us.” Andy said, still thinking this was a bad idea.

Both singers nodded, and Patrick knew they'd won the argument.

“I've seen Patrick perform and I know most of the songs on your set.” Gerard said.

“What about playing them?” Joe asked.

“You play rhythm, right Patrick?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can handle some basic guitar chords, a little practice and it'll be fine.”

Ray groaned again and muttered about being in a disaster zone.

“I'll work with you, we’d need to practice our sets together anyway. Besides, a lot of it should be muscle memory, right?” Patrick said eagerly.

“You guys are idiots.” Pete said. 

Patrick opened his mouth to protest but Pete stopped him with a raised hand.

“We're all idiots- idiots that don't want to be benched on Warped tour. Right guys?” He asked, looking around the room. 

Mikey shrugged, Ray eventually threw his hands up in defeat, Andy shook his head in disappointment. Frank was nodding eagerly, sure they could pull it off, and Joe was grinning like an idiot.

“Alright, let's ask around, see if it goes away on its own. If we need to bring in the grown ups later we can.” Frank said.

“Ok then! Let the search for answers begin!” Joe said, slapping his knee.

“Well if we’re doing this, which I still think is a bad idea, we'll need to squeeze in an extra practice tonight. I think the busses are leaving for Miami at 10, right?” Andy said, looking to Pete for confirmation and getting it. “Ok, then everyone needs to be on the right bus at say 9:30, ok? And while we ask around you two should go over the songs together.”

“Good call, Andy. Patrick, we'll expect you on the MCR bus for practice around the same time then.” Ray said.

 

With everyone in agreement, begrudging or not, they disbanded. Joe and Frank meandered off together to have a look at the icecream stand. Mikey said he was going to check out a lead and Pete of course was hot on his heels. Ray asked Andy to go with him to check out the med tent while Bob declared he had his own thing to do. 

This left Patrick and Gerard alone together on the FOB bus. Patrick had settled down onto the sofa and buried his face into his hands with a groan. Gerard plunked down next to him, copying the gesture, hat tumbling onto the ground between them. 

“Hey, thanks for baking me up, Gerard.” Patrick said, leaning back. 

“Well, I didn’t want to get us sent home either. We’ll work this weird shit out, man.” 

“Yeah, hopefully it’ll work itself out.” 

“Are you ok?” Gerard asked, “You’re shaking.” 

Patrick frowned, looking at his borrowed hands. They were shaking and he felt twitchy. 

“Considering the situation, I’m not ok. I was feeling alright before but I’m shaky now though. Are you ok?” 

“Yeah… I could use a smoke.” 

Patrick looked at Gerard and then down at his shaking hands - Gerard’s hands, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Maybe I need a smoke? When was the last time you had one?” Patrick asked.

“Shit. It’s been a while? I had one before I got ice cream.” 

“Oh. I guess I’d better…” 

“Yeah. I guess I shouldn’t.” Gerard said glumly. 

“Sorry. I’ve never smoked before.” Patrick said, wringing his hands. 

“Come on, it’s easy.” 

Together they made their way outside and Gerard reached into his coat pocket to pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He pulled one out and lit it, while Patrick watched, nose wrinkled. 

“God, this is so weird, seeing myself light it up.” 

Gerard laughed and handed him the cig. 

“I know. Now breathe in and exhale slowly.” 

Patrick managed with a minimal amount of choking. The second drag was easier. By the sixth or seventh he’d gotten the hang of it and his hands had stopped shaking. By then it was Gerard’s turn to wrinkle his nose in disgust. He’d become used to the smell of smoke in his own body, liked it even, but it smelled different through Patrick’s nose, gross. He really, really hoped that this stupid body swap was a 24 hour thing, at the most. 

 

Patrick felt a lot better after their smoke break. He and Gerard had decided to start with the guitar practice first since that would be the most challenging. Seeing someone else hold his guitar made his stomach sour, but he decided that if Gerard was going to be him, he had to do it right. Patrick picked up Joe’s guitar, which was a nice instrument, but not the same. He winced as Gerard’s fingers fumbled across the frets as he showed Patrick the chords he knew. It was a start though, enough for him to work with.

Gerard listened and watched closely as Patrick coached him through a few more chords, and corrected his fingers on the frets for a few of the ones Gerard knew. He mimicked the chords back, almost perfectly.  

“Hey, you're a meta, right?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah, I draw stuff and then bring it to life. You're a meta too aren't you?”

“I have intuitive aptitude.” 

“Oh.” Gerard said, jaw dropping just a little, eyes round in surprise. 

“Yeah. I wonder, since you’re in my body, and I’m in yours?” Patrick’s voice trailed off, afraid to voice the rest of his question.

Gerard got his train of thought and wasn’t afraid to follow it through.

“So, since I’m in your body, maybe I have your ability now, and you have mine since you’re me? It would make sense. I’ve never picked up learning new chords this fast before, it’s like I can see the pattern.”

“Damn. That’s exactly how my ability works. Do you have paper and a pen around here somewhere?” Patrick asked. 

Gerard just nodded before setting aside the guitar and stepping towards the bunks, coming back with a small sketch pad and a nice pen. 

“Try something small, like a guitar pick or something.” Gerard said, handing him the sketchbook after opening it to a blank page. 

“Ok. How do you… Make it real?” he asked, hesitating before touching the pen to paper. 

“Well, I have a clear idea in my head of what it should be and what it’s made of, and then when I’m done, I touch it, will it into being I guess.” 

Patrick nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, visualizing a pick, before touching pen to paper. His pick was a little lopsided, and the shading was uneven, he wasn’t that experienced at drawing. Once he was as satisfied as he could be, he touched it, gasping in surprise as he held the small pic in his hands. It was warped, and a little too heavy, but it was a guitar pic. 

“Dude!!! I did it!”

“Great! Let’s try it out.” 

Once Gerard realized Patrick’s ability, their guitar practice went by much more smoothly. He got the gist of the songs without too much trouble, but it wasn’t perfect. He did much better with the lyrics, since he already mostly knew them, though he sang some of the notes differently than Patrick liked. Explaining how to hit them wasn’t easy for Patrick when he had Gerard’s voice to use. They were both tenors, but Gerard’s voice was a little higher, definitely sharper and more nasal. They had different voice exercises and going through them together helped get them more in sync. 

Before too long they both forgot to be weirded out by hearing their voice in the other’s mouth as they got caught up in the music. They knew most of the lyrics to the other’s songs and while it was a little frustrating to have a different voice, it became easier as they sang. Together they pushed and pulled the other into the right notes for each of the songs in their sets. 

“A little higher on that last note.” Gerard commanded, rewinding the track on Patrick’s laptop. 

Patrick tried again, pushing the note, hitting it exactly where it needed to be this time. 

“There we go!” he said, smiling with satisfaction. 

“Great!” Gerard said, smiling as well. “If we don’t switch back by morning I think we can make this work. It won’t be your best played show, I’m not as good at guitar as you, but hopefully no one will notice.” 

“Just spend as much time practicing as you can, Joe will help you.” 

Gerard started to agree but was interrupted by a loud grumble from his stomach. He looked up at Patrick, his eyes wide with surprise. Patrick couldn’t help but laugh. He glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was past eight already. 

“I think we missed dinner.” 

Gerard made a face, “Yeah, I’m sure they’ve taken down the mess tent by now. Are you hungry too? We have pizza on our bus.” 

Patrick was not about to turn down pizza so they lopped off to the MCR bus. Gerard had him smoke on the way there, and they talked about food preferences. Turned out neither of them were too picky. They chatted about 80s movies while they ate and Patrick decided he liked the other singer. He'd seen him pretty frequently since the tour started, it was hard not to with the way Pete was mooning over Mikey Way, but they hadn’t talked much. Gerard wasn’t cool, per say, but he was ernest and nerdy and fun to talk to. 

Mikey and Pete joined them as they were putting the pizza box in the trash. They hadn’t found anything helpful. Patrick and Gerard listened as Pete chattered on about who they’d bothered, with Mikey chiming in to add or correct details here and there. They’d gained a lot of gossip but nothing helpful. Ray and Bob trailed in just before nine, with the same results. Frank had similar bad luck, though he had tried the ice cream and determined that it wasn't good enough to warrant a body swap 

Their conversation was cut short when Brian climbed on the bus.

“Hey guys, good to see you’re all here. Ready to roll out?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Ray said, looking around the group and getting nods of agreement. 

“Great. Well, the trip to Miami should only take five or six hours, we’ll leave in the next hour, so stay put, ok? Don’t sleep in too late tomorrow morning, I think we’ll be on around noon. I’ll be in the tech bus tonight, so text or call if you need me. Pete, Patrick, you two should head over to your bus, you’ll be heading out soon too.” 

Patrick started at the mention of his name, then settled back with a blush. Pete stood up to leave and it took Gerard a moment to realize that he was supposed to leave too. He shuffled out behind Pete and Brian, stopping in the doorway with a frown in Mikey’s direction. Mikey lifted an eyebrow in response and pushed his chin towards the door. Gerard nodded and left. 

Once the door closed behind Gerard, in his body, all eyes turned towards Patrick. 

“So, uh, I guess we better practice?” he said.

“No shit.” Bob muttered, making Frank laugh.

They spent a while practicing as the bus ate the miles between Tampa and Miami. It went better than Patrick expected. His ability was muffled in Gerard’s body, but he knew music. To his surprise, he found himself enjoying practicing with MCR. 

Patrick knew this situation was just as weird for the band as it was for him, but they rolled with it. Gerard was the leader of MCR like he was usually the driving force in his band, but it didn’t feel right to take charge in Gerard’s place. Ray quickly realized this and picked up the slack, directing them all from song to song, and speaking up when things needed to be repeated or adjusted. Ray was a damn good guitarist, he knew his stuff and played with an intense focus, and he proved up to the task of directing them as well. The others weren’t shy and spoke up when they needed to review or correct something. Patrick could tell his singing was a little different from Gerard’s but they were making it work. 

Bob decided he was done hitting the practice pads around 11 and by 11:30 the others were done as well. Patrick agreed that it was time to stop, he was exhausted. Mikey pointed him in the direction of Gerard’s suitcase, watching him pull out a mostly clean tshirt and a soft pair of batman pj pants, following him into the tiny bathroom to point out which toothbrush belonged to Gerard. When Patrick emerged, clad in the comphy pj’s, Ray had a cup of honeyed tea ready for him. 

“Oh, thanks man. That’s really nice of you.” he said, settling into a seat at the tiny table. 

Ray sat across from him, laptop open to a gaming site. 

“No problem. I’m sure it’s gotta be weird, Gerard’s voice is different from yours, so using it’s gotta be different.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s higher than I’m used to.” 

“I can tell, you keep pitching it lower. Just be careful not to strain it, let us know if you need vocal rest or anything, ok?” 

“I will, thanks.” 

They sat in companionable silence while he drank his tea and Ray played. Mikey lounged on the couch with his own laptop, gaming along with Ray. It felt familiar, like night’s on the road on his own bus, with his own band, and helped settle his nerves. 

Once his tea was gone, he washed the mug and said his goodnight’s, heading towards the bunks. He realized as he stepped in front of them that he wasn’t sure which was Gerard’s. Frank still had his curtain open and waived him towards the other middle bunk. It wasn’t that different from his own, though the light was in a different spot, and he obviously had different blankets and pillows, but a bunk is a bunk. Patrick expected to toss and turn for the next few hours, but he fell asleep in minutes. 


	2. Performance Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Gerard have to perform at Warped as each other!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, good news! I have this mostly written, I just have the last scene to finish. I'll upload a new chapter every few days or so. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

 

That night he dreamed he was himself, lost in a crowd, frantically looking for something, until Frank came along and took his hand, leading him back to the bus. His dreams were in vivid color, and jumped from place to place. He found himself in his home, chatting with his mom, at the record store, sorting bin after bin, and then lost in the woods, wandering in searching for a missing undefinable something. Frank appeared again, and led him away. This time he took him to a cozy living room full of instruments, with Ray sitting on the couch, guitar in hand. They played, just following the melody, and were joined by Mikey, Frank leading him gently by the elbow. His dream stayed there in the music room until he woke. 

Consciousness came back to him slowly, as the guitar in his hands lost its weight and the music floated away, replaced by the sounds of running water, heavy footsteps that echoed through the walls, and the lovely smell of coffee. He opened his eyes, confused for a moment to find his head on the wrong side of the bunk, or rather, he was in the wrong bunk, in the wrong body. He buried his face in the pillow, hoping it would all fade away, or that he would magically switch back into his own body in his own bunk where he was supposed to be. 

“Patrick’s awake.” Frank’s voice was quiet as it drifted in from the front of the bus.

“How did he sleep?” Mikey asked, also keeping quiet.

“Ok. I only had to stop his nightmare’s twice, and the second time he stayed put.” 

“Music room?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. I kinda remember him there.” 

Patrick wasn’t sure what they meant, and he didn’t care. Sleep evaded him, so eventually he heeded the call of his full bladder and stumbled out of the bunk and into the tiny bathroom. Peeing was awkward, so he tried not to look or think about the situation too much. He needed coffee to face the day. When he shuffled into the front of the bus, Mikey handed him a full warm mug, which he accepted with a mumbled thanks. He’d finished half of it when the door opened, brining in a gust of sticky hot air along with Ray and Bob holding McDonalds bags. 

“Good morning!” 

Patrick took another sip of coffee to shore himself up. Ray was way too cheerful for the early hour. The guitarist was smiling at him when Patrick set his mug down next to the hashbrown and mcmuffin that had magically appeared on the table in front of him. 

“Gee? Or Patrick?” 

“Patrick.” 

“Oh, sorry man.” Ray said, patting his arm before reaching back into the bag for Mikey’s food, “We’ll figure it out.”

After breakfast Patrick followed Frank and Bob outside for a smoke, and Patrick found himself relaxing as the guys pulled him into their antics and jokes, with the morning sun blazing hot overhead. It was muggy out and he almost felt like he was breathing underwater in the thick humidity.It was so, so strange to be in someone else’s body, but it was beginning to feel ok. The guys were accepting him, while giving him room to be himself, and he didn’t feel as shy. 

He’s reached the end of his second cig when Ray joined them, handing him a bottle of water. Frank gave him shit for not bringing water for him too, which resulted in Ray grabbing the shorter guitarist in a headlock and tickling him. 

Patrick’s laughter died out as Pete came around the corner of the bus, hands in his pockets, dark circles under his eyes. Patrick rushed to him and Pete looked up, the corners of his mouth twitching into a half smile. 

“Pete! Are you ok?” he asked, concerned.

“Fine. Better now that I’ve seen you.” Pete said, stepping forward to wrap him into a hug.

Hugging his best friend using Gerard’s taller body was different. Pete’s head nestled into his shoulder, with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist, hands fisting into his shirt. Patrick wrapped his arms around Pete, gently rubbing circles into his back, closing his eyes as he nuzzled his nose into Pete’s hair. Pete let go of his shirt and they pulled apart. 

“Dude, you’ve totally got the Way funk going on.” Pete said, slyly grinning up at him.

“What?! No I don’t!” Patrick stuttered before moving to sniff at his armpits as the other guys howled with laughter. 

“See, I keep saying that’s totally a thing!” Frank crowed, “We could bottle it and sell it as knock out gas.” 

“What are we bottling and selling?” Mikey asked, stepping out of the bus dressed and ready for the day.

“Nothing, nothing at all!” Patrick said, glaring at the others, as they just laughed.

“The Way bro’s funk!” Frank piped up, shit eating grin on his face. 

“Come on guys, I’m sure we can find easier methods to take Pete’s money.” Mikey said with a smirk, looking down his nose at Pete. 

Pete could only sputter. Patrick laughed as well. Even though this was definitely a messed up situation, he knew they’d figure it out. 

  
  


Getting ready for the set was not as easy as Patrick had expected, particularly since he didn’t have a guitar to worry about. He’d forgotten that some of the band liked to dress up and use makeup to perform. Bob and Ray were the first off the bus, they just wore jeans and tshirts, and brushed their hair. Mikey set up shop in the tiny bathroom to fuss over his hair, straightener in hand. Patrick didn’t see why Mikey felt the need, his hair wasn’t curly to start with, but he wasn’t about to make a scene about it. 

Patrick let Frank pull him into the back room, watching as he rooted through Gerard’s suitcase. He caught the black tshirt and skinny jeans Frank tossed his way, tugging them on, nose wrinkling in distaste at the tight jeans. Frank just laughed at him, tucking his shirt into his own jeans. 

“Gerard’s been wearing a bulletproof vest too, we’ll get you into that after I help you with your makeup.” Frank said, attention shifting to the red tie around his own neck. 

“Really? But it’s so hot outside!” 

“I know! We’re going to sweat like pigs! Now come on, let’s get you all pretty.” 

Patrick rolled his eyes but followed the punk into the living room, where he placed two makeup bags on the table, rooting through Gerard’s to find foundation and a large soft bristled brush that tickled his nose when Frank used it to smooth the light powder over his face. Next came a smaller brush and a heavy layer of red eyeshadow. Patrick felt a little nervous when Frank picked up the eyeliner, not so much because of the eyeliner itself as Pete had cajoled him into wearing it a few times before, but because having someone he didn’t know that well with something pointy at his eye was a little nerve wracking. 

Frank lowered the pencil, smirking at him.

“Never done this before?” 

“Yeah, I have, once or twice. Pete’s idea.” he said, closing his left eye as Frank raised the pencil to his face.

“Pete can rock the eyeliner. I bet you can too, ‘Trick, you should wear it more often.” 

“Not my thing.” 

Patrick stopped talking so Frank could finish painting him, careful not to move as the cool tip of the pencil touched the inner corner of his eye. Frank gently grasped his chin, moving his face into a different angle, holding him still before repeating the motion below his eye. Patrick focused on breathing slowly as Frank used a qtip to smudge the eyeliner, then moved his face again so he could repeat the process on his other eye. Between eyes, Patrick blinked his eyes open, to see Frank regarding him with great concentration, lip between his teeth as he focused on applying the makeup just like Gerard would. He beamed at Patrick once he was done, letting go of his chin. 

“There! You can open your eyes now!” 

Patrick blinked his eyes open, surprised at the small pang of regret blooming in his chest once Frank’s hands left his face. The contact had felt nice, had anchored him. The makeup felt odd on his skin, a lightweight mask. At Frank’s prodding he made his way to the bathroom to inspect himself. 

“Looks good, Frank did a nice job.” Mikey told him, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. 

“Yeah, I’m not used to makeup, but he knows what he’s doing.” 

Patrick narrowed his eyes at himself, leaning in closer over Mikey’s shoulder to see the smudged black lines around his eyes. It wasn’t his style, but it was definitely Gerard’s. 

“I don’t think anyone would be able to tell from looking.” he said, heart beating a little faster with nerves.

“Nah, it’s great. You’ll do fine, man, don’t stress.” Mikey said, poking him out of the way before digging in his bag for his own eyeliner. 

“Thanks.” Patrick said, watching him for a moment before wandering out to watch Frank finish putting on his own makeup, dark red eyeshadow and black slashed in precise x’s across both eyes. 

 

Patrick found himself on stage before he knew it, hands wrapped around a microphone, a sea of screaming teenagers spread out at his feet. He took a deep breath, telling himself that it’s ok, he’s done this before, lots of times. He can do this. He’s a good actor, he just has to do what Gerard would do, right? 

Ray clears his throat meaningfully, away from the mic but loud enough to get his attention, and Patrick realizes that he needs to say something because Pete isn’t there to talk to the crowd. No, that’s Gerard’s job, and right now, he’s Gerard. Patrick pulls out a smile that he hopes is convincing and steps forward, trying to remember what Gerard had said at the last show he’d seen. 

“Hello Miami!” he starts, sounding more confident than he feels. 

The crowd roars back, hooting and cheering, and he remembers that Gerard likes to curse a bit, and decides to let it loose. 

“It is motherfucking hot out here!” he declares, looking out over the crowd, faltering as he sees himself, Gerard, standing in the front, flanked by the rest of his band.

Gerard sends him a thumbs up and a smile, and he smiles back, intent on making this work. 

“I don’t know how you guys do this, I feel like I’m going to fucking melt! Are you ready for some music?!” 

The crowd voices it’s approval and he raises his hand, like he’s seen Gerard do before. Ray started into the intro to I’m Not Ok, and he dropped his hand with a flourish. 

“We’re My Chemical Romance!” he screamed, bouncing back, listening for his cue to start singing. 

Patrick let the words pour out of him, raw and full of truth as he screamed that he was not ok. He wasn’t ok, but still, it felt right to strut across the stage to the music, to let it pour through him. He focused on moving around the stage because that’s what Gerard would do, listening to the music, making sure he didn’t miss a word of the lyrics. He got caught up in the song, and started, almost dropping the mic, when Frank popped into place at his shoulder, yelling “Trust me” and then planting a wet kiss on his cheek. Patrick recovered quickly, jumping right back into the chorus, moving a little closer to Ray as Frank thrashed around with his guitar. 

The crowd screamed their approval as they finished the song, and he grinned, feeling more confident that he could do this, he could really make this work!

“Did you like that?” he yelled back, strutting across the stage, feeling lithe and limber, music thrumming in his veins giving him a boldness he’d never had before. 

The feeling continued as they jumped into Thank You For the Venom, and Give ‘em Hell, Kid. Frank surprised him again during Prison by all but draping himself over Patrick’s shoulder, sharing the mic with him. Patrick wasn’t sure what to do but keep singing when Frank started rubbing against him as their audience screamed catcalls and wolf whistles at them. He looked down to see himself, Gerard, shaking his head and groaning. Thankfully, Frank didn’t stay there long, jumping away to fall to his knees and thrash around with his guitar. The rest of the set, Cemetery Drive and Helena, went off without a hitch. 

Patrick screamed a thank you to the crowd before stumbling off with the others. He was drenched in sweat, exhausted from dancing around on stage, his throat was a bit sore, and he was half hard, an awkward situation that happened sometimes on stage but was much harder to hide without his guitar. Despite it all, he was exuberant. He’d done it! He’d successfully played the part of Gerard on stage and the crowd had loved it!

“Great job, man!” Ray said, all smiles as he clapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, you too!” Patrick said, grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler behind stage. 

“I knew you could do it!” Mikey whispered in his ear, eyebrows cocked high on his face and a smirk on his lips. 

Patrick didn’t have a chance to respond because Frank was in front of him, his smile sheepish and proud all at the same time. 

“Yeah, you did great! Sorry about the uh, lack of personal space. I get caught up in it all sometimes, you know?” Frank said.

Patrick blushed but nodded. “Yeah, it happens.” 

“We cool?”

“Yeah.” 

His own band was hot on their heels, meeting them behind the stage as the next set began to play. 

“Holy shit, dude!” Pete said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes wide and sparkling, “That was amazing!” 

Patrick blushed, laughing it off.

“No, seriously dude, you’ve been holding out on us.” Joe said, giving him his impressed face.

“Just acting, that’s all.” 

“You did great.” Gerard said, taking off his hat, Patrick’s favorite trucker hat, to smile up at him. 

“Thanks. I’m sure you will too. When do you guys play?” Patrick asked.

“Next set.” Andy answered. 

“Cool, we’ll watch with you until you need to go on.” Ray said.

The two bands messed around behind the stage for another song or two before going out to watch the band playing. Fall Out Boy and Gerard as Patrick left before the next to last song to gather up their instruments. 

Patrick felt his stomach twist bitterly as he imagined the weight of his guitar in his hands. He missed it and ached at the thought of someone else holding his guitar and playing in his place. He realized that he hadn’t told Gerard about their high five ritual. Surely one of the others was filling him in now, if they didn’t do it the techs and their manager would get suspicious. 

He fidgeted until they came out, the crowd roaring around them. Patrick watched as Pete greeted the crowd, lapping up their applause as usual. He let Pete’s words flow in and out, hearing but not comprehending them as he watched Gerard behind the center mic, his knuckles white where he gripped the next of Patricks guitar, hat pulled low over his eyes. Patrick realized that he felt nervous too. 

He kept his eyes glued to Gerard as they started in on Sugar, nodding along in approval as Gerard hit every note, both in the lyrics and with his strumming. He didn’t realize he was singing along quietly until Mikey bumped his arm and joined in. His cheeks burned, but he continued. As they went into “Our Lawyer…” Patrick resisted the urge to sing along, and Gerard seemed to loosen up a bit, shooting a smile in Patrick’s direction before launching into the song with passion. He couldn’t stray very far from the mic stand, he couldn’t just hold the mic because of the guitar, but he danced around it. He looked like he was enjoying himself. 

Patrick felt a pang of jealousy go through him that got worse when Gerard sang a note differently from how he usually did. He knew he was a bit of a control freak when it came to his music, and he tried not to be, he really did, but this, this was killing him to watch.

“Hey, are you ok?” Ray asked, leaning close to speak in his ear.

“Yeah…No.” Patrick said.

Ray looked down at him and shook his head, concern and kindness in his eyes. He looped his arm around Patrick’s shoulder and led him out of the crowd and into some of the merch tents. Patrick leaned against one of the tent poles, wiping away tears as Ray stood quietly by.

“I know it’s hard, man.” Ray said. 

Patrick nodded and looked down, feeling embarrassed.

“It can be hard to see someone else playing your music, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to see someone else play your music as you. But we’ll figure this out, man, we will. It’s just temporary.”

“He’s doing a good job, it’s just, I should be up there. Why does this shit have to happen to me?” Patrick asked, sighing. 

Ray huffed out a laugh, hair bouncing as he shook his head.

“It sucks man, but we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“I feel bad for ducking out. Gerard didn’t.” 

“Don’t feel bad, man. You should have seen me when Frank first joined the band. I had a really hard time at first letting him play my melodies, and change them up to his style but once I did, our music was so much better. You can do this, we’ve got you, and I know Gerard is doing his best to play and sing just like you would.”

“Yeah, I know. I just, I just wish it was me up there.” Patrick said, frowning.

“I know.” 

“Thanks, Ray. We should probably go back.” 

They slipped back into the front of the crowd, and he sent Joe a shaky smile when his guitarist shot him a frown. Joe nodded at him before throwing himself back into the song. Patrick slowly found himself relaxing as the set went on and while Gerard had a little more stage presence than he usually did, he did a fantastic job with both his singing and playing. When they got to the last song, Saturday, Pete walked to the edge of the stage during the chorus and sang it to Patrick, eyes locked with his best friend, letting him know he was missed. Patrick found himself smiling even as he wiped away a tear, and he cheered with the rest of the crowd as the song finished. 

He made his way backstage with the others, hanging back just a little as his band made their way off the stage, patting Gerard on the back. Andy met him first, enveloping him in a hug that he really needed.

“Great show.” he told his bandmate.

“Thanks, ‘Trick, missed you.” Andy said. 

Pete found him next, wrapping him up in another hug, whispering into his ear that he was going nowhere fast without him. Patrick just smiled into his neck, squeezing him tight before letting go to face Gerard. The other singer turned to im after exchanging a high five with Ray. 

“Hey, Gee, you did a great job.” Patrick said, meaning it. 

“Thanks, man. That means a lot.” Gerard said, smiling up at him. 

Patrick shuffled awkwardly, the weirdness of the situation hitting home once more. 

“I’m serious, you were perfect, and the kids loved it.” 

Joe stepped forward, a grin on his face as he clapped gerard on the shoulder, “Hell yeah! We put on a great show. Now, who wants to go find some food, I’m starving!”

Patrick had to laugh, his friend’s excitement was catching. The bands trooped off to the mess tent together. Their meal was filled with laughter and jokes, traded stories and some high spirited shenanigans. Their managers came to collect them about an hour later, sending some of them off to the merc tents to sign things and greet fans. 

Patrick ended up in the MCR merc tent with Bob and Ray, scribbling xo GW on things for fans. He usually enjoyed meeting the fans, and this was no exception, it was just different because he wasn’t doing it as himself. That kept them bus for another few hours. Frank joined them at one point, filling the tent with his laughter. They pitched in and helped Matt pack up their merc, and load the trailer, giving them an hour until bus call for FOB, when they’d be parting ways for the next few days. 

With heavy feet, Patrick made his way to meet Gerard at the FOB bus. There they traded phones and some basic info they thought the other might need in case the switch didn’t right itself overnight like they hoped. He also picked up his Nintendo DS. Patrick and Mikey hung out on the bus, Mikey giggling in the back with Pete, Patrick talking about music with Joe and Gerard, until the bus driver climbed on, asking if they were ready to rock and roll. Patrick hugged each of his bandmates tightly before leaving, hoping with everything in him that this would right itself as soon as possible.

Mikey did his best to distract him on the way back to the bus, but realized pretty quickly that Patrick wasn’t in the mood to chat and just walked with him, supporting him in silence. He asked if Patrick wanted to go with him to one of the bus parties, but didn’t pressure him when he said no. Once he was back on the bus, he moped alone for a bit until Bob came in and turned on the XBox, putting in Halo and tossing him a controller. Killing aliens was pretty cathartic, and before long Frank and Ray joined in, making it a rowdy party. 

  
  


***

The second night, Patrick took longer to fall asleep, his mind filled with worries. He was nervous about being away from his band, filling in for- no, pretending to be, Gerard. He still hoped that they would switch back overnight, just given enough time. But how much time? He did not want to spend the entire summer as Gerard. Maybe it just needed distance for them to switch back, and they’d switch by the next afternoon. What if he had to interview as Gerard? What if Gerard’s mom called? What if his mom called?! 

Patrick forced himself to take a deep breath and calm his racing heart. Worrying about it wouldn’t help. Knowing this, however, didn’t help either. 

He finally fell asleep, into colorless dreams that quickly fade from the mind. They morphed into something new and Patrick found himself in the passenger seat of a dingy car, with Bert at the wheel. He didn’t know Bert, but he knew it was Bert just as he didn’t know what the streets of Jersey looked like, but he knew that’s where they were. Bert drove faster and faster, hands tight on the wheel as he darted through traffic, taking corners too tight, and ignoring stop signs. It felt like it should have been fun, but it wasn’t. 

Then, they were home, sneaking in the door and past his mom, only it wasn’t quite his mom or his house. They made their way down to his room in the basement where Mikey was waiting for them, sitting on the bed, surrounded by liquor bottles. 

Patrick found himself drawn in like a moth to the flame, body shaking, need overwhelming him. He knew in his bones that something was wrong, he should be saying no, though he didn’t know why. He picked up a full bottle of amber rum, holding it carefully in his hands as Bert begged him to just try it. One sip wouldn’t hurt, right?

He took a sip, then looked at the bottle, panicking when he saw it was empty. Bert and Mikey just laughed it off and handed him another bottle. The second bottle emptied in one sip as well. Bert laid out a selection of pills on the bed, brightly colored, calling to him. 

Patrick jumped up, desperate to get away, but he had nowhere to go. The room was now a club packed full of people, jumping, dancing, grinding, their heads tipped back in ecstacy, drinks in hand, pills making the rounds. Panic rose in his throat. Patrick tried to push through but they wouldn’t let him out, he was stuck between them, jostled from person to person, his cies of protest ignored 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok! Wake up!” a voice loudly whispered in his ear.

“Frank?” he gasped, body still shaking.

“Shhh, I’m here, it’s ok. You’re awake now.” Frank said, squeezing into the bunk with him. 

Patrick scooted over in the small space to give him more room, sniffing as he got his tears under control. He had a burning ache for a drink, a drink Gerard’s body shouldn’t have. The dream was unlike any he’d ever had, it didn’t make sense, but his body, Gerards body, had reacted. 

“Gee, or Patrick?” Frank asked, gently rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. 

“Patrick.”

“Oh.” The soothing pat stopped for a moment, then started again. “I’m sorry, I felt your nightmare, but I couldn’t get in to change it or stop it. I tried to pull you out, but that wasn’t working either, so I woke you up.”

“Thanks. That was…” Patrick took a shaky breath, at a loss for words. 

“Wanna tell me about it? That usually helps Gee.” 

“Yeah, I could, I could try that.” Patrick said.

Frank snuggled in closer, putting his arms around Patrick and burrowing his face against his shoulder. Patrick tried to match his breathing to Frank’s calm breath’s, searching for the words to describe the dream. 

“Well, it started in a car, driving around Jersey with a guy, Bert, I think.” 

Patrick felt Frank stiffen behind him and stopped, but Frank murmured for him to go on.

“I don’t know who he is, but we went to a house. It felt like mine but it wasn’t. We snuck downstairs into my room. Mikey was there. We drank several bottles, which was weird, the bottles would empty in one sip. They tried to get me to do pills and I freaked out when I couldn’t get away. We were in a club then with too many people. Then you woke me up.” 

The words hung heavily between them but Patrick felt better for having gotten the dream out. The anxiety it had caused had slipped away in the telling. Frank, however, was now upset. 

“That’s Gerard’s nightmare. He’s had it a few times before.” Frank whispered urgently, pulling away from Patrick, “Call your phone. I need to make sure Gee is ok.” 

Patrick fumbled around the bunk for Gerard’s phone and called his own, but it rang a few times before going to voicemail. 

“Fuck. Who else can we call?” Frank said.

“Pete should be awake. He never sleeps.” Patrick said, dialing his number. 

Thankfully, Pete answered on the second ring. 

_ “Patrick?” _

“Hey Pete.”

_ “Is everything ok?” _ Pete asked, concerned.

“Is Gerard asleep?” 

_ “Yeah, everyone is.” _

Frank leaned in, speaking into the phone.

“Go check on him, make sure he’s not having a nightmare.”

_ “Sure, just a minute.” _

They heard the rustling of sheets as Pete set the phone down and then silence. He was back a minute later.

_ “Hey. He looked ok, sleeping peacefully. Are you ok?” _

“Yeah, I just had a weird nightmare, that’s all.” Patrick said, wishing he was there with Pete instead of in Gerard’s bunk. 

“Thanks for checking. Can you keep an eye on him, wake him up if you think he’s having a bad dream? Have him call me in the morning.” Frank asked.

_ “Yeah, of course.”  _ Pete said. 

“Thanks man.” 

They said their goodbyes, and Patrick settled back down. 

“Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” Frank asked, looking vulnerable in the little bit of light coming off the cell phone.

“No, that’s fine.” Patrick said.

“Thanks.” Frank murmured, settling down next to him, gently wrapping his arms around him.

It was a little weird for Patrick, but he closed his eyes and imagined it was Pete and not Frank. He had fallen asleep next to his bandmate on more than one occasion when Pete couldn’t sleep, or had crawled in with him to have a deep late night chat. Those nights had been more rare lately, Pete had been spending more time confiding in Mikey. It didn’t work though, instead it just made him miss Pete, Joe, and Andy more. He guessed that they were probably in Orlando already and regretted not asking Pete while he was on the phone. Patrick decided to call him again in the morning, just to check up on them. Frank’s even breathing finally lulled him to sleep and this time his dreams were unmemorable. 


	3. Miami Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun at the beach, a great time on stage, and some steamy dreams.

He woke up to Frank shaking him- again. 

“Hey! Patrick, rise and shine! We’re going to the beach!” 

With a groan, Patrick buried his face in the pillow, giving him the middle finger. He tried to sink back into sleep, hoping Frank would go away. He did, but was replaced with Bob. 

“Come on man! You’ve gotta come with us! Don’t make me drag you out of there.”

“Go away.” Patrick moaned. 

“I will drag your sorry ass to the beach.” Bob threatened. 

Patrick believed him. He got up and found coffee which helped his outlook on life by a little bit. He found a pair of blue swim trunks in Gerard’s suitcase and put them on with a white tshirt that had the sleeves cut off. He wished he had one of his hats. 

Even though it was barely 9am it was hot and sticky out, a perfect day for the beach. He had to admit that it was a great thing to do while in Miami. They took a cab and a pile of towels. 

Once they picked a spot in the sand to dump their towels and the beach bag Mikey had put together, Mikey pulled out two containers of sun block, tossing one to Ray. They all started pulling off their shirts and after a moment of hesitation he did the same. He’d rather be in his body, with his shirt on, but he supposed he could do worse than be Gerard shirtless at the beach. He wasn’t built, but he was fairly slim, with some softness around his middle. Patrick slathered on the sunblock, not sure if Gerard was as prone to burning as he was. He voiced the thought to Mikey. 

“Nah,” Mikey said, “We get pretty nice tans. Gerard just tries to avoid the sun, gotta keep up his vampire street cred, you know. Here, let me get your back.” 

Patrick laughed and dutifully turned and let him smear the lotion on him, offering to do the same for him when he was done. Mikey let him. Patrick felt bad, he knew the Way brothers were close, and he was sure Mikey missed his big brother.

“Hey! The water feels great! Hurry up and get your butts down here!” Ray called from where he stood knee deep in the clear calm water. 

Patrick didn’t miss Mikey’s shudder, and how he looked away, blinking. 

“You ok?” he asked. 

“Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just, uh, I’m afraid of large bodies of water.” 

“Oh. That sucks.” 

“Yeah. I’ll just stay up here, work on my tan. I don’t care about my vampire cred.” Mikey said, unfolding a towel to lay on. 

Patrick left him there, following Bob and Frank into the cool water. It felt perfect in the heat, and they were able to wade out a bit before it got too deep. They splashed around, laughing and joking, and Frank got each of them to give him a piggyback ride into the deeper water. This, of course, ended up with Frank getting dunked each time, and devolved into trying to dunk each other. They ended up playing rounds of chicken, with Frank on Ray’s shoulder’s and Patrick on Bob’s, with Mikey cheering on from the safety of the ankle deep waters. 

They were joined about an hour later by the Paramore band and the guys from Avenged Sevenfold. Ray pulled him aside and let him know Gerard knew all of them, which relieved Patrick. He just had to remember to answer to Gerard. 

One of the newcomers had brought a football, and a game was quickly organized. Apparently Gerard was also terrible at sports too, but Patrick got roped into it anyways. He had fun, despite falling on his ass more than once, getting hit in the back by the ball, and getting tackled by Ray on the one occasion that he actually had managed to get his hands on the ball. His team lost, but he didn’t really care. 

They had a gig at a club that night so they couldn't spend the entire day at the beach. Besides, they eventually got hungry and decided to go in search of food before heading back to the bus as the sun crept closer to its height in the bright blue sky. There were a few places that looked good up the road so they said their goodbyes and headed out, walking towards civilization. 

“Ugh, I need a shower!” Patrick complained, shaking sand out of his long hair. 

The other guys looked at him with wide eyes before bursting into laughter. 

“What?! I’m full of sand and salt! It’s gross!” he protested.

“Patrick you can stay with us as long as you want, even after you switch back, if you promise to shower regularly.” Frank said, wrapping his own sand and salt encrusted arm around Patrick’s waist. 

“Seconded!” Ray declared before bursting into laughter again. 

“You’re gross right now too, man.” Patrick said, pusing Frank away. 

“Yeah, but Gee is always gross, and doesn’t care. That Way Funk ya know?” Frank explained.

“Hey!” Mikey exclaimed, giving Frank a light shove, “That’s slander and defamation!” 

“But it’s truuuuuuueeeeee!!!!” Frank sang, shoving him back, then running to try and hide behind Bob. 

Mikey ran after him, and things devolved from there. Ray eventually broke them up by pointing out the restaurant he wanted to go to. Lunch was a rowdy affair, followed by another cab ride, back to the busses where Brian told them they had to hose down to get rid of the sand before letting them on the bus. Frank talked Brian into fetching them soap and shampoo and while it wasn’t the same as a real shower, it was better than nothing. 

Ray was nice enough to heal up the scrape he’d gotten on his arm in their football game. He sat next to the guitarist on the couch as Ray ran his fingers over the scrape on his arm, forehead wrinkled in concentration. Patrick felt an itchy warmth flow through the cut as the skin knit back together. 

“That is so cool! Thanks man!” he exclaimed, examining Gerard’s arm.

The scratch was healed, skin a soft white against the light tan of the rest of his skin. Ray smiled back, ducking his head shyly. 

“Anytime!” 

“You’ll have to show me that again when I’m in my own body. Your ability is so cool! Do you feel ok?” 

“Yeah, it wasn’t really big enough to take too much of my energy. I’ll have a snack and I’ll be fine.” Ray replied, happy to be peppered by questions while he raided the bus fridge. 

  


They had some time to kill before heading to the venue and Patrick decided to text his bandmates to see how they were doing. Joe texted him back right away.

  


G: Hey. What’s up?

Joe: Hey dude. 

On our way to the interview

G:Yeah?

Good luck

Joe: Gerard is nervous but it’ll be fine

Pete can talk enough for all of us

G: haha true

We went to the beach this morning. Played football with Paramore and A7X. I missed you guys.

Joe: Fun!

We miss you too

Been practicing guitar with G. He’s doing ok. Picking up some TK too

G: That’s good. I haven’t tried much with his ability. I miss mine

Joe: Well, don’t you have to be able to draw more than just stick figures to use his?

G: Yeah

Joe: Sux for you dude

G2g xoxo

G: :-/

ttyl xoxo

  


Patrick closed the flip phone and tucked it back into his pocket with a sigh. He really missed Joe. 

“Hey!” Ray said, plopping down next to him on the couch.

“Hi. What’s up?” Patrick asked, trying to smile. 

“We’ve got another hour or two until we head to the venue, want to play some Halo?”

“Yeah, sure.” he agreed. 

Ray beamed at him and started setting the game up. Bob and Frank joined them and before long Mikey wandered in as well, phone in hand, texting away. Patrick let them cheer him up, accepting the distraction from his band. 

Soon enough the bus was on the road. The venue wasn’t very large, a popular bar with a stage at one end. It was dark and cavernous inside, the chestnut wood of one wall covered in pictures of rockstars. The bar stretched along the other wall, shelves full of spirits and gleaming glasses. He was excited, it would be the perfect place for a show, reminding him of the venues he’d started playing concerts at. 

Sound check ran smoothly, leaving them another three hours before the show. They didn’t have a dressing room at the venue, so they headed back to the bus to get ready. They spent a while going over the set list, practicing a few more songs than they played on the Warped setlist. Patrick was nervous, but the guys assured him that he was doing fine. 

Brian interrupted their practicing with a few bags of Chinese take out, reminding them that they needed to get a move on to get dressed and ready. This time Patrick picked his own clothes, something simple that he’d seen Gerard in on stage before - black pants and a black button up with the sleeves rolled up and the bulletproof vest nearby. It was too hot to wear it until he had too. Mikey gave his outfit his stamp of approval, pointing him towards a belt with a bat buckle and laughing when Patrick remarked that it made him think of Pete. He managed to put on most of his own makeup, with some help from Frank who applied his eyeliner for him. The guitarist also provided him with a red tie, tied and ready to slip on. 

He followed Frank out of the bus for a preshow smoke, surprised that it helped his nerves. Of course, they met fans outside of the building, and he managed to forget half of his nerves as he listened to a group of kids gush about how MCR’s music had helped save them and make their lives better. He gladly scribbled a GW on their fliers before chatting with other fans as the rest of the band joined them in milling around the venue, meeting people and signing things, enjoying the atmosphere. 

A flutter of nerves filled his stomach again as Brian herded him towards the stage for their part of the show. He waited at the side of the stage with the rest of the band, waiting for the first band to finish their set. Patrick chewed on his lip nervously, afraid he was going to mess up. Mikey gently bumped shoulders with him, quirking his lips up in a smile. Patrick tried to smile back, bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to dispel his nerves. 

The warm up band left the stage to the audience’s cheers and before he was ready he found himself on stage, mic in hand and no idea of what to say. He took a deep breath and centered himself. What he would say didn’t matter, what would Gerard say? With a show of confidence he wasn’t quite feeling, Patrick stepped forward.

“Good evening, Miami!” 

Most of the packed crowd was paying attention and yelled back. They were close, and it brought him back to old times, from his first shows, bolstering his confidence. He could do this!

“You guys have an awesome city! Let’s hear it for Miami!” He held out the mic, smiling at their screams, “I don’t know if you can tell but we got some sun this morning! The beach here is awesome. The water was great and I got all gross with salt and sand. Got knocked on my ass playing football. I’m in a band for a reason.” 

Someone cat called and he laughed.

“No! It made me all gross! I had to shower with a hose before they’d let me back into the bus! It’s so humid here you can’t tell though. I’ve been wet all day!” 

This comment had several more people catcalling him and someone yelled that wet is the best way to be. He chuckled, glancing around at his band. Ray nodded at him, ready to go. 

“Ok, so are you guys ready for a show?” 

The crowd yelled back in the affirmative. 

“You guys are awesome and we’re excited to be here with you! Thanks for having us, Echo! We are MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE!!!” 

Bob started off the song and he tapped his foot in time, counting off to the start of the lyrics as the guitars jumped in on the melody and the bass. He let the words flow out of him, sharp and sweet, pushing away his nerves. The crowd joined him in singing, filling the room with energy, letting the music flow into them, charging them up and getting them dancing, jumping and screaming, pushing the energy back to the stage in crashing waves. They were close, so close, in the small venue, and he was swept up in the loop of energy. 

Patrick couldn’t stand still, body bouncing in time with the music, head banging to the bass, he let himself get lost in it. Gerard’s muscle memory took over as he cocked his hips and raised his hands, singing his heart out as the crowd threw every ounce of energy he gave them right back to him. 

The rest of the band was feeling the positive vibes as well. Ray alternated between head bangin his glorius mass of dark curls and screaming the backup lyrics into his mic, a smile on his face. Mikey stood firm, legs planted wide, head thrown back in ecstasy. When he did move around the stage he stayed in a set area between Bob’s kit and Ray, avoiding bumping into Frank. 

Frank, of course, thrashed his way across the small stage like a knight across a chess board, leaving destruction in his wake. It was something to behold, as he didn’t stop playing, never missing a note as he jumped, bounced, ran, and spun. He must have noticed Patrick watching because he moved closer, dropping to his knees beside him, gazing up at him with half lidded eyes, pupils blown wide. The sight caused an unexpected hot spike of desire to flash through his stomach. His voice hitched and his mind went blank for a moment, shocked as he wasn’t used to feeling like that. The feeling settled into a pleasant warmth and Patrick turned away, cheeks hot, desperately focusing on getting the lyrics right. 

When he turned back to Frank again the guitarist was on his back, hips thrust up, fingers flying of the frets, not missing a note. He felt another hot pang and pushed it away, trying to ignore Gerard’s bodies reaction. 

It happened again during “I’m Not OK.” This time Patrick wasn’t surprised when Frank leaned in to share the mic and scream “Trust me!” but instead of a kiss, the shorter man licked a  wet stripe up the side of his cheek, causing him to shiver, faltering on the lyrics. He tried to step away but Frank didn’t seem to notice, leaning into his shoulder for the rest of the chorus before bouncing away to lean into the open arms of the crowd. At one point in the evening Frank abandoned the stage altogether to surf atop the crowd, guitar unplugged but still being played. The crowd didn’t seem to mind. At the end of the song Ray stopped playing and accepted a beer from a tech, giving the run away guitarist time to make his way back to the stage. Mikey nudged Patrick’s foot, reminding him that he was supposed to fill the silence.

“I think we lost a guitarist. Has anybody seen a short little dude with a guitar and a bucket load of tattoos?”

Laughter rose up to meet him, echoing around the stage room and Bob hammered a ba dum cha on the drums as Frank lifted his middle fingers high. 

“Is it just me or is it hot as hell in here?” he asked, picking up his bottle of water, pouring some down his front as he drank. 

Frank reached the stage and plugged back in as Bob, Mikey, and Ray kicked back frothy glasses of beer before they jumped into the last two songs. Patrick threw himself into the performance, forgetting he wasn’t himself, knowing nothing but the driving thrum of the beat, the sweet sharpness of the guitars, and the roar of the crowd. 

Once they finished he was panting, drenched in sweat, half hard, and thirsty, but feeling like he could take on the world. 

“Thank you!” he yelled to the crowd, grinning as they yelled back, “You guys are amazing! We couldn’t do this without you! Keep singing, keep dancing, keep putting as much joy as you can into your life. Thanks for coming out and have a good night!” 

He exited the stage with Ray laughing and pulling him into a half hug.

“Dude, you were on fire! Great job!” Ray said, loudly in his ear. 

“Thanks! You were pretty amazing yourself!” 

Patrick grinned and accepted Mikey’s fist bump. Bob pushed his way in as well, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Man, that was awesome. I totally forgot!” 

“Me too, except for the lyrics…” Patrick said, grinning. 

“You forgot a couple of those too!” Frank said, draping himself across Bob’s back. 

“No thanks to you! You’re worse than Pete!” Patrick bit back, blushing. 

They just laughed at him. He let them drag him to the bar where he ordered a coke, Frank patting his arm in approval. He wouldn't have minded a beer, but he was ok without it, He was mostly straight edge himself. He respected Gerard enough to not want to try anything that might hurt him. 

They stayed at the venue for another hour or two, mingling with the crowd, meeting fans, dancing, and singing along to the local bands that followed their performance. Patrick was wiped out by the time they climbed back onto the bus in the wee hours of the morning, but he was happy. He joined in with the others in poking gentle fun at Bob, who had lipstick smeared across his cheek, and at Mikey, who didn’t but was looking like the cat who’d gotten the cream. He was having so much fun he mostly forgot to miss his band. 

He fell asleep quickly, lulled by the sway of the bus as they traveled back to Tampa. His dreams flitted comfortably from one thing to the next for most of the night, and were pleasant but unmemorable until Gerard and Frank showed up in one. They were wrapped up in each other, caught up in a heated embrace, Frank’s fist gripping the dyed spot in Gerard’s hair as Gee panted into his mouth. The dream shifted, and Patrick was Gerard, mewling into Frank’s mouth, clutching at his back, grinding against his leg. Hot need raced through him. 

Another pair of hands found their way onto his skin, a hot mouth pressing kisses to his shoulder. He broke away from kissing Frank to see his own eyes looking back at him as he, no, Gerard, leaned in for a kiss. When he pushed away he was himself again, leaning into Gerard as Frank stared at him with heavy eyes, hand reaching forward to pull him in. He let him, sinking into the heat of the two bodies, taking turns kissing the other two musicians. The touches became more heated and he found himself being shoved towards a bed. He fell into it with Gerard at his side, Frank hovering above them, a lascivious grin on his face. 

“Gee, you are way too hot, both as you and Patrick.” Frank said, shucking his pants. 

Panic flashed through Patrick along with the realization that he was dreaming. He was dreaming, and Frank was a dream walker. A dream walker who was currently pantsless, kneeling above him, eyes wide in surprise.

“Patrick?!” 

Patrick nodded, looking away, cheeks flushed. Gerard, lying on the bed next to him, seemed unsure, reaching to pull the covers up over himself, looking nervously between the two of them.

“Fuck.” Frank said.

Patrick scrambled back, trying to slip away, but he was trapped between the bed and his friend’s bodies. 

“I am so sorry, I didn’t realize… I didn’t mean…” Frank said before grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a shove.

Patrick opened his eyes to the dim light of his bunk, heart racing, and feeling uncomfortably hard in his pants. He concentrated on breathing, willing his erection away, hands clenched at his sides. 

It wasn’t like he’d never had a weird sex dream before, but this wasn’t his body so he didn’t feel right doing anything about it. Besides, he wasn’t the one attracted to Frank, Gerard’s body was. It’s not like he was a puritan or anything, but he wasn’t used to this, usually he knew the person before he was attracted to them and usually they weren't a dude. He wasn’t homophobic, he just wasn’t that into dudes. He’d done a little bit of experimenting, mostly just sloppy make out sessions with Joe, but it wasn’t really for him. Sex in general just wasn’t that high on his list, to be honest. Gerard’s body hadn’t gotten the memo. Patrick breathed deeply, trying not to cry. He wanted his body back. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a harder time cutting this one, I'm trying to put each chapter as each day, this ch has a little overlap.


	4. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick is nervous about doing interviews. One goes well, the other... Not so much. Mikey proves once again that he's the soul of the band.

Patrick opened his eyes to the dim light of his bunk, heart racing, and feeling uncomfortably hard in his pants. He concentrated on breathing, willing his erection away, hands clenched at his sides. 

It wasn’t like he’d never had a weird sex dream before, but this wasn’t his body so he didn’t feel right doing anything about it. Besides, he wasn’t the one attracted to Frank, Gerard’s body was. It’s not like he was a puritan or anything, but he wasn’t used to this, usually he knew the person before he was attracted to them and usually they weren't a dude. He wasn’t homophobic, he just wasn’t that into dudes. He’d done a little bit of experimenting, mostly just sloppy make out sessions with Joe, but it wasn’t really for him. Sex in general just wasn’t that high on his list, to be honest. Gerard’s body hadn’t gotten the memo. Patrick breathed deeply, trying not to cry. He wanted his body back. 

His body calmed down after a few minutes and he tried to go back to sleep but he couldn’t. He laid quietly for a while, just resting. Once his cellphone blinked 8:00 he decided to get up. He used the bathroom as quietly as possible and made a pot of coffee. 

Frank was the next one up, shuffling into the bathroom before joining Patrick at the table, looking contrite. 

“Hey, um, sorry about that. I didn’t mean for you to get pulled into the dream.” Frank said earnestly. 

Patrick wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he took a long sip of his coffee.

“It’s, complicated, between Gee and I, and I kind of forgot it was you and not him on stage last night. I get carried away sometimes.” Frank explained, cheeks pink, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I know you’re not into that. I really didn’t mean to pull you into our dream. Then once I did, I thought it was just a dream construct Gee had thought up, because he was in your body...” 

“I get it. It’s ok, I appreciate the apology but I know this whole crazy body swap thing is weird for everyone. I forgot on stage too. And with the dream- I’m not usually attracted to dudes, but Gerard’s body is I think? I’m not used to this.” 

They were interrupted by Ray’s entrance, hair wild, clad only in his boxers. Unfortunately he was observant enough to see their awkwardness when he wished them a cheery good morning. 

“Uh-oh. Did you get sucked into one of Frank’s wet dreams, ‘Trick?” Ray asked, crossing his arms over his chest and giving Frank a stern look. 

Both he and Frank flushed and Ray laughed. 

“Welcome to the band, man! Step one of initiation, don’t worry, we’ve all been through it. Frank can get a little wild after a good show.” Ray said, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Hey! Fuck you!” Frank said. 

“Nah, I’ll leave that to Gee.” Ray said, turning to pour himself some coffee.

Frank sputtered then pouted. Patrick had to laugh, which helped dispel the awkwardness. Ray was a morning person and was happy to chat away about the previous night’s show. 

Patrick spent the morning playing with his friend’s, practicing with the band. They had fun and practice devolved into a jam session. Ray loaned Patrick a guitar and they played around with some riffs, going over some ideas for songs for both bands. 

  
  


Patrick was nervous about giving interviews as Gerard. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing or do anything out of character. He said as much to Bob who just shook his head.

“Gerard is an awkward mess, so you’ll be fine.” 

That didn’t really make him feel better. Ray promised that it would be fine too, and Patrick decided to just trust that the band would have his back. They had so far.  

The first interview went smoothly. They met a reporter, John Noble, from a local newspaper at a Starbucks, which Patrick thought was a great spot. He liked coffee, but he seemed to be drinking twice as much of the stuff as Gerard. If possible, it tasted even better with Gerard’s taste buds. Mikey was also hooked, so maybe it was genetic? 

John was a younger guy, very laid back. He started out by asking what they were drinking and if it was their usual, trying to put them at ease. He laughed easily and included the whole band which was nice. 

They spent some time talking about their gear and prefered instruments. John was surprised to hear that Gerard played some guitar, but easily distracted by Ray’s foray into Fender vs Gibson. This turned out to be something that even Bob had Opinions™ on. 

John then asked about their musical inspirations, going around the table to get answers from each of them. Patrick knew that he and Gerard both liked and were inspired by Queen and Bowie, so he went with that, happily discussing both musicians. 

The interview went longer than expected because they were all enjoying the conversation, but before too long Brian rounded them up and they said their goodbyes. They loaded back into the bus to head to a local bookstore to interview with another paper before doing a brief signing. They arrived to find that a different reporter was there to cover for her sick colleague. She was a well dressed middle aged woman with an impressive bitch face. It was clear that she was not impressed by the band. 

She introduced herself as Brenda Collins and led them to a circle of comfortable leather chair towards the back of the book store. The store’s manager met them their as well, with a more genuine smile and some quick last minute questions for Brian about the signing. Mrs. Collins didn’t waste time with pleasantries before jumping into her questions.

“This is your second Warped Tour, I believe, are you finding it harder this year? I hear that the crowds have been more...volatile.” 

“Well, I don’t think that I would use that word, but yeah, they’ve been bigger this year.” Ray said, frowning. 

“The crowds can be rowdy sometimes, but that’s true of any show. You just have to keep an eye on them, make sure everything’s under control. I’m not above stopping a song if needed to make sure the fans are safe. We want them to have fun, but their safety is very important to us.” Patrick said, receiving nods from the rest of the band. 

Mrs. Collins sniffed derisively, causing Patrick to shift uneasily. 

“Yeah, Gerard’s right. We care about our fans a lot. It’s been really humbling to see so many people come out to see us, you know? Like, there were a lot of people last year, but it’s been cool to see so many people excited to see us play.” Mikey said.

“A lot of parents are concerned that their children are listening to your music because it promotes death and suicide. They say you’ve created a suicide cult for young people.” She said. 

“No! Not at all! We’ve created music to encourage kids not to commit suicide. We want them to know that we understand how they feel, and give them something to live for. Life as a teenager can really suck, especially if you’re an outsider. We know what that feels like, and we want them to know that they’re not alone.” Patrick said.

“I understand you do know what it’s like to feel suicidal. You almost committed suicide yourself, didn’t you, Gerard?” Mrs. Collins asked with a sharp smile on her face. 

Patrick opened his mouth to respond, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. He’d heard Gerard talk about his recent wake up call, but their interviewer was obviously just out for blood. Frank jumped in to answer for him.  

“We’ve all been through low points. I’m, we, are all proud that Gerard was willing to face his demons and  ask for our help in getting clean and sober. That’s not an easy thing to do, but he’s doing a fantastic job.” Frank said, reaching over to pat Patrick’s shoulder fondly. 

Mrs. Collins still looked sceptical. 

“Hmm, well, I understand that you and Gerard have quite a special relationship. Frank. I hear that you and Gerard do quite a bit for the homosexual agenda on stage. How long have you been dating?”

“Oh, we’re not. We’re just friends, and what we do on stage is just something that happens. Nothing wrong with some shared spit between friends in the heat of the moment.” Frank said, eyes daring her to make an issue of it.

She wisely backed down, turning back to Patrick. 

“Well, it’s sad that a successful young musician would get to such a place, but that’s what music has become now days. How long have you been sober for now, Gerard?” 

“Several months.” he said, realizing that he didn’t know exactly how many weeks or days, and someone might expect him to know. 

“That’s all? I hope the tour doesn’t end up being too much for you, then. I hear there’s a lot of partying that happens around

the tour buses. It’s sad really, doesn’t set a good example for the youth at all.” She said, with a sad shake of her head. 

Patrick flushed with anger and decided that he’d had enough. This reporter obviously didn’t like them, and he was done playing nice. There was no use in arguing with people like her. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mrs. Collins. It must be really sad for you to have such a negative view of the world. My Chemical Romance, and the other bands on Warped, want to make kids lives better. We all have our demons to face, and no one should face them alone, hopefully we can help lift kids up. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think we have some people who actually want to have serious conversations with us waiting at the signing.” Patrick said, standing up. 

The rest of the band followed suit, as Mrs. Collins sputtered that they still had time for a few more questions. 

“Nah, not these half assed questions.” Bob said as they walked away. 

Ray put his arm around his shoulder as they walked towards the front of the book store, and Patrick realized that he’d been shaking with anger.

“You ok man?” Ray asked, pulling him aside into one of the sections of shelves. 

“Yeah, just pissed.” 

“Hey, walking away was the right move. She was being a bitch.” 

“Thanks. How, how long has it been for him?”

“Oh! Twenty weeks? Mikey could tell you the exact number of days.” 

Patrick nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The fans would expect a smiling face. He had been honest, he, and Gerard, wanted the best for their fans. He tried to shake off her condescending tone and nasty accusations. Gerard and his band did a lot of good and she was stupid not to see it. 

Ray pulled him into a hug, and they walked back towards the others where they were met with smiles. Mikey affectionately shoulder checked him, Bob patted his back, and Frank squeezed his hand. As they headed towards the signing table Patrick hoped that Gerard knew just how great he had it with such a fantastic band. 

The signing went better than the interviews. The fans were very excited to see them and the front of the bookstore was buzzing with excitement. It was the same sort of crowd he was used to, but that was no surprise as their bands had such a large overlap in fans. Patrick was all smiles as they filed by, eagerly handing him things to sign. Some were shy, while others were so excited that they burst into tears. He dutifully scribled a GW xo in the proffered ticket stubs, posters, and pictures that passed in front of him. 

He had a brief moment of panic when one of the fans asked him to draw something for her. He felt bad that he wasn’t as good of an artist as Gerard, but after a moment of consideration, he obliged, scribbling a little smiling skull on her poster. Frank cooed over it, and after that more fans asked for doodles and he ended up sketching an assortment of little doodles. He drew the line at bringing them to life though, not feeling comfortable enough with Gerard’s power, and not wanting to tire himself out. The fans were disappointed but understood when he told them he wasn’t feeling up to it. Mikey, however, was feeling up to using his powers, and some of the fans had brought seeds for him, and one guy even brought a half withered succulent for him to revive. 

They headed to a radio station after a quick stop for dinner, and had a much more professional interview before playing a song. Patrick was worn out by the time they checked in at the hotel. Thankfully, the others were tired as well and didn’t feel like going out. They grabbed their bags and headed into the hotel where Brian was checking them in. He’d checked them into two rooms. Patrick accepted his keycard from Brian, looking forward to sleeping in a real bed. He was rooming with Ray, Frank, and Mikey, while Bob was going to share with Brian, Matt Cortez, and the driver. 

Once the got to their room, Patrick hovered uncertainly in the doorway, not sure of where Gerard usually fit. If this had been his band he’d take the bed by the door and share with Joe, but this was new territory. Mikey jerked his chin towards the bed Patrick had been eyeing by the door. He placed his bag at the foot of the bed, sending Mikey a relieved smile as the bassist placed his own bag on the other side of the same bed. Once he looked around again,Frank was nowhere in sight but moments later they heard the telltale rattle of water running through pipes. 

“Hey! Frank, you better not be in there all night!” Ray said, pounding on the closed bathroom door. 

He was answered with a peal of giggles and thumped his head against the wood before pounding at the door once more. 

“Dick!” he called.

“You might want to settle in, he’s going to be a while.” Mikey advised, stretching his long legs out on the bed and flipping open his phone. 

Ray plopped onto the other bed with a moan before pulling out his own phone and calling Christa, his girlfriend. Patrick felt weird listening in, so he slipped onto the small balcony. The ashtray on the small table reminded him that he hadn’t had a smoke in a while so he pulled out the pack. Two cigarettes shook out into his hand, leaving an empty pack in the other. With a sigh he placed one back, pocketing the pack, and lit the other. Lighting up still felt weird, but the gesture had become calming. He wondered if he would want it in his own body, though he shuddered to think of the effect it might have on his voice. 

Frank joined him with his own pack of cigs, his hair dripping onto his collar. He lit one and took a lazy drag before blowing smoke off to the side, leaning against the railing. 

“I’m almost out, think we could find someplace to get some tonight?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got plenty, you can share and we’ll make a stop in the morning if you want. I think everyone’s feeling like a lazy evening.” Frank said. 

“Sounds good, thanks.” Patrick said. 

“Sure thing.” Frank said, taking another drag. 

They sat in companionable silence for a while, smoking together while Patrick texted Joe and Pete. Ray joined them, towel wrapped around his wet hair. 

“Hey Patrick, shower’s all yours now.”

“Oh, thanks man.” 

“No problem. Gotta use the hot water while we’ve got it, right? Oh hey, do you lay DnD? We usually play on our hotel nights and Brian wants to know if we were on for tonight.” 

“Yeah, but it’s been a while.” Patrick said, stubbing out his cig.

“What? But Gee is always the DM, we can’t play without him!” Frank exclaimed, looking at Ray like he’d lost his mind. 

“Oh shit. That could be a problem,” Ray said, frowning.

“We could watch a movie instead?” Frank suggested.

“As long as it’s not Terminator…” Patrick said. 

“Nah, I’ve got a stack of horror movies in my bag that we’ve been going through.” Frank said. 

“Or we could play Magic.” Ray countered.

Patrick nodded, “Either sounds good to me.” 

“Fuck that!” Frank said, winding up for a good fight. 

Patrick left them to bicker over the choice. He enjoyed the luxury of having a real shower with actual hot water despite the awkwardness of washing Gerard’s naked body. He had to admit that if he had to have a body that wasn't his own, Gerard’s wasn’t a bad choice. 

By the time he finished showering and was dressed in mostly clean clothes the others had decided to watch a cheesy horror film. Patrick went to the corner store with Frank and Matt to pick up more smokes and get junk food for the movie. It wasn’t Patrick’s usual kind of thing, but he found himself enjoying the moving, making fun of it with the other guys. 

They went to bed after the movie, tired out after their long day of interviews and travel. Despite being tired, Patrick couldn’t sleep. He ran through the day’s interviews again and again in his mind, wondering if he’d given a wrong response, said or done anything out of character for Gerard. He was still bothered by Ms. Collin’s remarks. He hadn’t thought to ask how long Gerard had been sober before she’d brought it up. Guilt pooled in his stomach. He could have blown it for all of them gotten them sent home. 

He wondered how Gerard would have responded to her. He could have diffused the situation, Patrick was sure. He wished that he was as strong and confident as Gerard at being a front man. He just knew he was going to mess this up. Make some wrong move and get MCR and FOB in trouble. 

“Hey,” Mikey whispered, “Are you ok?” 

Patrick stilled, heat flushing through his cheeks as he realized his tossing and turning was keeping Mikey from sleeping. 

“Yeah.” he whispered back, not wanting to bother him. 

“You’re a shit liar.” 

Patrick let out a small huff.

“What’s bothering you?” Mikey asked, scooting closer to press up against his side. 

“Did I mess up today, waking out of that interview?” 

“No,” Mikey said firmly, “She was a bitch and deserved it.”

“Gerard could have done a better job. I’m terrible at being the front man.” Patrick whispered.

“No, you’re not, you do a great job. You just need to have more faith in yourself. Gerard would have done the same thing. Fuck, he would have cursed her out first, then left, and Brian would have had a fit.” Mikey said with an amused huff. 

Patrick couldn’t help but smile in response. 

“I just don’t want to screw up.” he admitted, growing serious again.

“You won’t.” 

Patrick just shook his head, wishing he had Mikey’s confidence. They lay in silence for a moment, listening to Ray’s light snore’s and Frank’s gentle breathing.

“Patrick?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad it was you. I mean, it sucks that this happened, but if it had to, I’m glad you’re the one Gee had to switch with.” 

Patrick felt a little better knowing he was wanted. Mikey’s approval was no small matter.

“Not Pete?” he asked, stomach twisting at the thought.

“No, Patrick. Having Pete as Gerard would be too weird. He’d probably forget and try to kiss me and that would just be gross. So wrong.” Mikey said, voice even.

Patrick had to laugh. That was exactly something Pete would do. After thinking about it for a second, he realized that Pete would have majorly freaked at being switched. If Patrick was having a hard time coping, he knew for sure Pete would have made a wreck of the situation.

“Thanks, Mikey.” 

He felt Mikey hum back in response. 

“Can I?” Mikey whispered, drawing closer, rolling onto his side and holding out his arm. 

“Yeah.” Patrick replied, relaxing into Mikey as the other man pulled him close, wrapping an arm around him as he spooned him. 

“Pete would be jealous if he knew he was missing out on Mikey Way cuddles.” Patrick said.

Mikey laughed softly, his breath tickling over Patrick’s ear. 

“Pete should be jealous. But from what I hear, when Pete can’t sleep he usually goes for Patrick Stump cuddles. Apparently they’re pretty fucking comforting.” 

“He’s worse than an octopus.” Patrick deadpanned. 

“I used to crawl into bed with Gee when I was little whenever there was a thunderstorm. He’d hold onto me and tell me it would be ok.” Mkey whispered.

“You miss him, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

Patrick moved his arm to cover Mikey’s where his rested on his stomach, lacing their fingers together. 

“What if we never switch back?” Patrick asked, voicing his biggest fear over the situation.

“You will.” 

“It’s already been a few days, Mikey. I’m not so sure anymore.”

“We’ll find a way.”

“And if not?” Patrick asked, needing to know.

“Then I’ll have two brothers and we’ll make it work.” 

“Thanks, Mikey.” Patrick said, not entirely convinced, but deciding to have faith in the other’s confidence. 

Mikey just nuzzled his face into Patrick's hair. Patrick yawned, finally feeling at peace enough to sleep. He matched his breathing to Mikey’s as he let the sandman pull him under. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody catch the Doctor Who reference? If only I had a time machine! I'd totally visit 2005 Warped tour!!!


	5. I'm Not OK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More tour bus shenanigans!
> 
> FOB and MCR are reunited and things get a little bit steamy as Gerard proposes they work together to blow of some built up steam. AKA: things get steamy, so if that's not your cup of tea you might want to read the first section and move on.

When he woke the next morning, he found himself sprawled on top of Mikey’s chest with his nose in his armpit. He spluttered and pushed away, squawking when he almost fell off the side of the bed. This, of course, was enough to make his “brother” open his eyes. Mikey snorted and scooted over, pulling Patrick with him and away from the edge of the bed. 

The others were up, Ray turning off the alarm clock. Brian knocked on the connecting door between their rooms and popped his head in just long enough to remind then that they had an hour until bus call. That had Frank shuffling out of bed and into the shower. Mikey followed after him to use the toilet, leaving Patrick with the bed to himself. 

He had just fallen back asleep when Ray shook him, insisting he get up and get dressed. Patrick resisted, but when Ray mentioned coffee his mouth started to water and he knew he wouldn’t be able to doze any longer. He got up and got dressed before stumbling down to raid the continental breakfast spread for coffee. 

Brian was there as well, with a plate of eggs for himself and a stack of pancakes for Gerard. Patrick accepted them gratefully and sat at one of the small tables with him, barely bothering to blow on his hot coffee before inhaling it. The pancakes followed in a similar fashion. He got a second cup of coffee to wash the down, feeling slightly more awake. Brian must have thought he looked awake enough because he sent him a look that Patrick knew meant trouble. 

“Gerard, are you doing alright?”

Patrick silently cursed. He’d really hoped he could avoid this line of questioning. He was not awake enough for this.

“What? Uh, yeah, I’m fine, thanks.” he said, glancing around the room, hoping to spot one of the other guys and get them to bail him out. 

No such luck. When he looked back at Brian, the manager was frowning and looking at him critically over his glasses. 

“Gee, I’m concerned. You’ve been off the past few days. Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine, Brian, really.” Patrick said with as much confidence as he could muster up. 

“Mhm. You never pass up on DnD night.” 

“I was tired?”

“I haven’t seen you pick up your sketchbook in a few days. That doesn’t look like Ok to me.” 

“I… I’m just thinking on some ideas right now, for the comic. I need some space and I’ll sketch them in a few days when I’m ready.” Patrick said, scrambling for an acceptable answer and hoping that Brian didn’t press for details. 

“Ok, but please, talk to me if you need to, ok? I’m here for you when you’re ready. I don’t want to see you get into a bad mental state again, Gee.” 

“No, it’s not like that. I’ll talk to you if I need to, thanks.” 

“I know something’s bothering you, have you at least talked to one of the guys about it?” Brian asked, not quite ready to let it go.

Patrick picked at the lip of his coffee cup, debating on the merits of insisting nothing was wrong. He honestly didn’t think it would work, With a sigh, he answered. 

“Yeah. I talked to Mikey last night. I’ll be ok, really.” 

“Alright,” Brian said, finally satisfied, “Just remember you can tell me anything, ok? And I know the guys will be ok with having a dry bus if you need that for a bit.”

“No, thanks, but that’s fine.” 

Brian let him slip away on the very real excuse of needing a smoke. He hoped that excuse would be enough to cover his trembling fingers. 

One smoke later and they were back on the bus, headed to their next destination for Warped. Touring usually brings to mind the glamorous aspects, playing on stage, meet and greets with fans, interviews. That's only the top of the iceberg. The remaining 90% of touring is full of the boredom of moving from one unfamiliar place to another stuck on a bus with one's band mates. This is good in that they're your friends, bad in that they don't have regular access to showers and they're stuck on a bus and personal space and privacy are at a minimum. 

There was a subdued air on the My Chem bus that morning. For the first few hours everyone did their own thing. Mikey disappeared to his bunk, phone in hand. Bob pulled out the XBox and played Halo while Ray played World of Warcraft on his laptop at the small table. Frank curled up next to Bob on the couch with a book though he kept having to put it down to sneeze. He insisted, however; that he was fine and was not in any way coming down with anything. Ray just rolled his eyes at him. 

Patrick sat at the table with Ray, Gerard’s laptop in front of him. The other singer had readily agreed to trading laptop passwords earlier in the week but Patrick hadn’t actually used it yet He was glad he decided to bite the bullet once he opened his email to find a full inbox. Pete had sent him something nearly every day so after going through the other emails he opened up a Word document and settled in to parse through Pete’s ramblings, piecing them together into usable lyrics. 

He lost himself in the creative process, tuning out the others until he’d pushed and pulled Pete’s words into a more satisfying flow. He then moved to the back lounge to use the guitar there to try out melodies. Ray eventually joined him, picking up another guitar and harmonizing. The other guitarist didn’t intrude, just played along. Patrick had him hook into the recording equipment with him and after a bit asked him to play the melody while he sang. Ray did, and them switched to bass once Patrick moved on to the drumline. The others wandered in and out, amused by the process and more than happy to provide their two cents on the song in progress. 

By the time they stopped for a late lunch, Patrick had a demo to show Pete that he was pretty pleased with. He hesitated for a moment before sending it to him, Joe, and Andy, realizing belatedly that it was gerard’s voice and not his own on the recording. He pressed send anyways He also texted Pete, telling him to check his email. He received a text back immediately with a smiley face. Five minutes later he received another, this time a <3\. 

At lunch, Brian fussed over Frank, who was sneezing even more, and looking flushed. Ray promised he’d take care of it after they’d eaten. From the ensuing argument Patrick gathers that Frank got sick pretty often but didn’t like to accept help (or in his words admit defeat), until it got bad. Ray argued that he was happy to help and it was easier for him to fix Frank before his cold got too bad. Finally, Ray turned to Patrick, eyes pleading with him to help.

“Gerard, please, tell Frank to listen. He always listens to you about this before he’ll listen to me.” Ray said.

“Yeah, because Gee bribes him with cuddles.” Mikey muttered.

Frank had the good grace to blush. Patrick just sighed. Dealing with Frank was turning out to be almost as much drama as having Pete around. Almost.

“Come on, Frank. We have to perform tomorrow, you don’t want to be sick. Let Ray take care of you.” Patrick said, causing Brian to sigh in relief.

“Can we watch a movie while I recover?” 

“Sure Frankie, whatever.” he agreed, rolling his eyes and steeling himself for another bad horror flick. 

Once they were back on the bus, Ray and Patrick sat on the couch, with Frank squeezing in between them. Ray placed his hand on Frank’s forehead, closing his own eyes in concentration. Ray became a little pale, while Frank began to breathe more easily. Ray pulled his hand away to sneeze, wet and messy, causing Frank to laugh. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, jerk. Feel better yet?” Ray bitched at him, rising to wash his hands. 

Frank stuck his tongue out at him but had to admit that he did feel better. Ray put in one of their horror flicks and settled back on the couch with them, yawning. Patrick wasn’t a big cuddler, but he found himself snuggling closer to Frank’s warmth instead of pushing away when he settled his head on Patrick’s chest. Ray laid his arm on the back of the couch, and his fingers found their way into Gerard’s long hair, and Patrick leaned into his strong fingers as they massaged the back of his neck, leaching away tension he didn’t even know he had. 

By the time the three woke up they had almost arrived at the campgrounds for Warped. A quick text to Andy confirmed that his band was already there, and he would save him a veggie burger. Patrick looked forward to seeing his bandmates, though the break from them hadn’t been as bad as he’d anticipated. It had been kind of nice to have a breather, and spend time with some other people. 

He headed to the FOB bus to collect on Andy’s promise as soon as they arrived. Mikey tagged along with him, and several people called out greetings to the Way brothers as they wove through the maze of busses already assembled at the fairgrounds. They waved back and yelled quick hellos, not stopping. To anyone looking, they didn’t make an unusual sight. 

On reaching his bus, Pete enveloped him in a crushing hug, with Mikey doing the same to Gerard. They traded news and joked around for a bit before Gerard left with directions to the MCR bus, intent on grabbing a few things he needed and catching up with the rest of his band. True to his word, Andy had saved him a veggie burger. Patrick ate it while catching up on the goings on of his band, trading stories of the events of the last few days, and trading notes on the bit of research they’d been able to squeeze in on how to reverse the switch. They hadn’t found anything concrete. 

Conversation eventually moved to the demo Patrick had recorded with Ray that morning, and Joe pulled out his guitar to show them some ways he’d changed the main guitar riff Patrick and Ray had come up with. They jammed for a while, and Patrick enjoyed playing with his familiar, beloved guitar even if he was using gerard’s fingers to do it. They talked about another ong they’d been working on, and Patrick had made a few notes on it that morning, but had left them on the MCR bus. He decided to go grab them to give to Joe, even though the other guitarist had plans to go find a party for the evening. He could look over them in the morning if nothing else. 

  
  


  


  


Patrick barged into the MCR bus without knocking, feeling at home after spending the last few days there. He stumbled to a stop once he took in the scene in the front room. He- Gerard- sat on the couch with Frankie perched in his lap, one hand entwined with Gerard’s, the other tangled in his short red hair.

They noticed him come in and smiled up at him. His brain suddenly restarted and he blushed, realizing that they had totally caught him staring and were waiting for a response. 

“Hey guys.” He said, gulping and licking his lips nervously.

“Patrick, what's up?” Frank said, smiling up at him sweetly.

“Hey Patrick, come join us!” Gerard said.

Awkwardly, Patrick sat next to them on the small couch. He sat quietly for a moment not sure what to say. He had just decided to talk about a chord combo for one of their songs when Frank leaned forward and pressed their lips together. He kissed back on instinct, too surprised not to respond. 

The other man pulled back with a whine and Patrick worked on breathing, feeling flushed and sure his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

“Frankie, we talked about this, you have to ask first.” Gerard said, his voice low and a little husky.

Gerard let go of the handful of Frank's hair he'd used to pull him back and squeezed the other man's chin instead. Frank just smirked, looking quite pleased with himself.  

  


“Sorry about that. Frankie is an ass and should have asked first.” Gerard said leaning around the armful of guitarist in his lap to look at Patrick.

“Come on, Gee, he was right there! I miss kissing your stupid face, ok?” Frank whined.

Gerard ignored him and Patrick turned red. 

“Uh, that's ok.” He managed to get out, immediately feeling stupid.

It wasn't ok. It had been great. Awesome. 10/10 would do again. Despite the awkwardness. Despite not being himself.

“So, anyways, we were going to talk to you. We’ve been swapped for what, 4 days now?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah, almost 5.”

“Jesus. You're right, almost 5. And uh, that's a decent amount of time, man. Your body's starting to feel a little...tense, and I'm pretty sure mine is too. I know we’ve both definitely seen each other naked now, having to pee and shower and shit, but I felt weird doing anything with your body without your permission. I mean I'm in it, but it's not mine and I don't want to make this more weird than it already is, you know?”

“Yeah, thanks. I appreciate that. It is weird and, and things have been… tense.” Patrick admitted, not sure if it was physically possible for him to blush any harder.

He had been getting tense and he had been reluctant to do anything about it. He'd had more than one awkward wake up and he'd been in a rough spot after Frank’s awkward dream.

“I've just been taking cold showers, saying the alphabet backwards, that kind of stuff.”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could take care of this together. That way we're both ok with what's going on.” Gerard said, mouth twisting into a smile that Patrick knew looked nothing like his own.

“And I'm generously offering to help, since I too have been getting weird boners due to the switcheroo.” Frank said, smiling at him, eyes heavy with arousal.

Patrick’s mouth went dry as he considered, mind immediately going to the awkward dream he’d been pulled into and had tried, very hard, to forget. They were proposing to do that, again, but for real this time. It was a good solution, practically speaking. Maybe if they got off his, or rather Gerard’s, body would calm down a bit? And Frank was good looking… It was already awkward, so why not? 

“I think we could make that work. I mean, it's already weird, right?”

“That's the spirit!” Frank said, grinning at him.

Patrick smiled back, feeling a little nervous, but then ducked his head, not sure what he should do. Frank reached forward, hanging off his- Gerard’s, lap, to place his hand on Patrick’s arm.

“Hey, only if you want to, ok?” Frank said gently. 

“Yeah. I do.” Patrick said, heart racing, nervous but sure.

“Rad. Can I kiss you now, please?” Frank asked, and Gerard patted his thigh in approval. 

“Please.” Patrick said, choking out the word.

Their lips met softly, just a brush of skin against skin. Frank made a low sound in his throat before repeating the gesture, his lip ring pressing harder against Patrick’s lip, a cool reminder that this was really happening. Their kiss became more heated, and Frank sucked on his lower lip, making him moan. 

“Shit, that’s hot.” Gerard said, voice low and revarant. 

Frank pulled away after another brush of lips against lips, his pupils blown wide, a smirk on his lips. He kissed Gerard, a deeper kiss than he’d given him. Patrick watched, entranced. Gerard was right, seeing your body get kissed was hot. He blushed as he wondered how it would feel to kiss himself. Gerard saw him looking and gently pushed Frank away.

  


“Like what you see?” Gee asked.

“Can I…” Patrick asked, leaning forward.

“Fuck yes.” Gerard said, moving to meet him halfway. 

Kissing himself was the most surreal thing Patrick had ever done, and he’d been having a really weird week. It was also the best thing he’d done all week. His lips were full and soft, familiar in a weird way. He didn’t have that much experience in kissing dudes, but except for a little bit of scratchiness from Gerard’s, or rather his, five o clock shadow, it was just about the same as kissing a girl. Except it really really wasn’t because he was aware with every cell in his body that he was kissing himself. It was way more hot than he would have thought.

Gerard was the first to pull away, leaving them both panting. Patrick couldn’t help but feel how hard he was and reached down to adjust himself in his pants. This made Frank groan and slip off Gerard’s lap to kneel on the floor, pulling his own belt off and sticking a hand down his pants with another molten hot moan.

“You both have too many clothes on.” Frank decided, looking up at them with lidded eyes. 

Patrick’s finger’s moved to his belt, then stopped as he hesitated, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything more unless you’re comfortable with it, ok?” Gerard said, reaching forward to run a comforting hand along the curve of his jaw. 

Patrick leaned into the touch, nervous, but determined. 

“No, I want to, I’ve just, never done this before. With a dude, I mean, much less two dudes.” 

“That’s ok. We can take it slow if you need. Speak up if you’re not comfortable, ok?” Gerard said. 

Patrick nodded in response, feeling better.

“Here, let me.” Gerard murmured, moving to unclasp Patrick’s belt and unbutton and unzip his pants. 

Patrick and Frank both moaned at this, and Frank surged up, tackling Gerard back into the couch, kissing him while taking care of his shirt, and then pants. Patrick wasn’t always comfortable with his naked body, self conscious about his soft spots, but Frank was obviously entranced. It felt weird and hot, watching himself be kissed and fondled. He’d never been the kind of guy to watch himself in a mirror, but this? This he could handle. 

“So fucking gorgeous, Patrick.” Frank breathed, trailing kisses down his body’s chest and stomach, reaching a hand out to squeeze Patrick’s leg. 

“God, he’s right, ‘Trick, you’re pretty fucking hot. Fuck, Fraaaank!” Gerard moaned as Frank licked around his cock before pulling away. 

“Nope, gotta be patient, Gee. It’s ‘Trick’s turn now.” Frank said, turning to Patrick with a dirty grin.

Patrick gulped, brain shorting out a little as the guitarist pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his tattooed arms and chest, before making pulling motions on Patrick’s shirt. Together, they got it off him. Frank’s lips were on his before the shirt hit the floor. He moaned into the messy kiss, opening up as Frank licked into his mouth, tangling their tongues together. The other’s lip ring bit gently into his bottom lip, warm now, a reminder that this was really, actually happening. His hips thrust up without his permission, grinding against Frank’s hip, causing the guitarist to laugh into his mouth. 

“Hey, sh, sh, we’ve got you.” Frank murmured, one hand grabbing into his long hair, forcing his head back so he could suck at his neck. The wet pressure felt divine, making him shiver. 

Patrick glanced at Gerard, and saw Frank’s other hand was on Gerard’s thigh, rubbing his way closer to his crotch. Gerard leaned in, pressing light kisses against Patrick’s shoulder, his hand moving to push into Patrick’s underwear. 

“Off, off, I need, I need my pants off.” Patrick panted, arching into Gerard’s touch, hands flailing. 

The others were quick to respond, and his pants were on the floor in short order, the cool air of the bus hitting his exposed thighs and leaving goose bumps. Frank pushed him back into the couch, moving down his chest to lick at the head of Patrick’s cock. Patrick and Gerard moaned together at the sight, and Patrick knew the only reason he wasn’t bucking up into Frank’s mouth was the hard press of Frank’s hands on his hips. 

“He’s a fucking tease but he’s so fucking good at that, isn’t he?” Gerard whispered into his ear, his voice low and husky, the familiar sound sending shivers down Patrick’s spine. 

“Fuck, yes!” he groaned. 

Gerard leaned forward to capture his moans in a kiss as Frank stopped playing around with little kitten licks and took him down properly. His mouth was wet and warm, and he knew exactly how to move his tongue to drive Patrick crazy. A spike of heat bloomed low in his belly and spread through his veins as Patrick realized that this was definitely not the first time Frank had sucked this dick. 

Patrick slipped his hand into Gerard’s lap, taking him in hand. He stroked his dick with sure firm strokes, marveling with the few brain cells that he had left at the feel of it in his hand, so familiar but so different because he couldn’t feel the effect of the familiar strokes. The angle was different, but he knew exactly what he liked, and if the noises Gerard made were any indication, he wasn’t doing a bad job of it. 

“Oh god, please!” Gerard whimpered into his shoulder.

Patrick felt his balls tighten just as Frank pulled off, a satisfied grin on his face as he shucked off his own pants, hand moving to stroke his own cock. 

“Fraaank! Fuck!” Patrick whined, panting, his dick feeling impossibly hard and heavy. 

A distant part of his mind acknowledged that normally he’d be so terribly embarrassed to resort to begging, but right now, Patrick could care less. He was so, so close. He was ready to do literally anything to get Frank’s hot warm mouth back on his dick.

“Please, Frank, please! God, I am so close, fucking fuck, man! Please!”

“Sh, sh, I’ve got you, ‘Trick. Just give us a bit, ok? You’re doing such a great job, but I know you can last. I wanna, fuck, I wanna see you two come together, ok? But first, first I wanna taste Gee, ok?” Frank said, rubbing his thigh lightly. 

Patrick let out what he hoped was a coherent response, but was actually just a string of curse words with “fuck yes, oh god please” interspersed. 

Gerard’s reply echoed his own, and Frank moved to nuzzle his thigh, nosing up to lick at Patrick’s hand around Gee’s cock before taking him down with a satisfied groan. Patrick trailed his hand up Gerard’s stomach, taking the time to feel his own body, moving closer to pant into his shoulder, hands flicking over his nipples, licking and sucking up his chest and neck, trading sloppy, hot kisses. 

While he and Frank moved over his body Gerard kept up a stream of words, telling them how good it felt, how beautiful they were, how hot Patrick was as himself and as him, how hot it felt to see his own body moving against him. Hearing his desperate dirty talk was absolutely doing it for him, making his touches even more desperate.

“Oh god, Frankie, I’m gonna, please, god, Frankie, you gotta stop or I’m gonna…” Gerard choked out, pushing Frank away from his crotch, hand tight in his hair. 

Frank obligingly pulled off, moving up to kiss Patrick, giving Gerard a chance to breath and collect himself. Patrick groaned, feeling close himself as Frank pushed his way into his mouth, sharing the taste of himself, bitter and sweet between them. He told him just how hot it was as Frank moved to kiss Gee with equal passion.

“Damn, you two are so hot. I wanna see you finish each other off.” Frank panted, leaning back to kneel in front of them, moving his hand back to where his dick curled heavy against the swallows on his stomach. 

Patrick had no objections to this, and neither did Gee if the swiftness with which he had Patrick’s cock in his hand was any indication. Patrick didn’t know where to focus, on his own cock -Gerard, heavy in his hand, or on Frank, sweaty and panting in front of him, shaking as he pumped his own dick, or on the way Gerard moved his hand over his cock with practiced strokes, knowing exactly where and how to touch his own body. He felt like his brain was about to short out, and leaned into Gerard, cursing softly, hips bucking up. 

Gerard was in a similar state, so, so close. They moaned together, harmonizing in their pleasure, thinking only of their release. Soft lips captured his own in a bruising kiss, stubble scraping across his cheek pushing Patrick over the edge, taking Gerard with him. His eyes closed in ecstacy, and for a moment he felt free, mind blank and clear, not thinking, only feeling. His stomach clenched and his dick pulsed, and for a long moment he wasn’t in Gerard’s body, he wasn’t anchored to the earth at all, he was in free fall, he was floating, he was a bright spot in the universe, synapses firing pleasure. 

  


Panting, Patrick pulled away and opened his eyes, making sure he was still in one piece. He felt absolutely boneless, like he was going to melt into the couch. Frank stared up at him, looking utterly debauched, his wet hand still wrapped around his dick.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, still looking at him, voice hopeful.

“No?” Patrick said, feeling like he was missing something but not sure what it was, brain still sluggish.

“Oh, damn. I was sure that was going to work.” 

“Frank…” Gerard said, using the same warning tone Patrick used when Pete was about to do something stupid.

Frank leaned in to nuzzle Gerard’s thigh, running his hand, still damp and sticky, up Patrick’s thigh, moving up, rubbing circles in the cum on his stomach. 

“Maybe you guys actually have to fuck for it to work.” Frank mumbled, words slurred against pale skin.

“Make what work?” Patrick said, stomach sinking, as his brain cells began firing once again.

“Nothing, ignore him, he gets stupid after he cums.” Gerard said, giving Frank’s hair a warning tug that had Patrick narrowing his eyes at the two.

“No, I want to know. What did you think would work?” Patrick said, pushing Frank’s hand roughly off his body. 

“Fuck, nothing, Patrick, nothing.” Frank said, looking quickly between the two singers, and then back down into Gerard’s lap.

Patrick looked at Gerard, but the other singer was very pointedly not looking back. He remembered, suddenly, of the way Frank had insisted he and Gerard come at the same time, of how Gerard had desperately surged forward and kissed him, kissed him like he was trying to crawl inside of him. 

“You thought this would switch us back didn’t you?” he asked, voice rising.

“I mean, it was worth a try.” Gerard said, finally meeting his eyes, his gaze apologetic.

“You absolute cunts.” Patrick said, scrambling to grab his clothes, face suddenly red, eyes blinking back tears.

“No! Patrick! Please!” Frank said, reaching forward to stop him. 

Patrick swatted him away, roughly pulling on his pants, cursing at Gerard for having such tight jeans. He tugged on the closest shirt, not caring that it was actually his, and not Gerard’s. 

“No, don’t touch me! I can’t believe you two just duped me into that. I don’t even like guys, it’s just Gerard’s body, it can’t get enough of you and your stupid self!”

“Patrick, no, it’s not like that. We didn’t mean to trick you! We just didn’t know if it would work!” Frank pleaded.

“I’m sorry, we thought, we thought you wanted this, or we never would have!” Gerard said.

“You thought?! I don’t think you were thinking at all! What possessed you to think this would be a good idea? How did sex become the answer to this?” he said, angrily gesturing between them.

“Well, online, this seemed to be the solution that kept coming up.” Frank said, sheepishly.

“Online? Please, please tell me that you didn’t get the idea by reading fucking fan fiction.” Patrick growled, tugging on his shoes.

Their red faces and downturned eyes answered that question. Patrick let out a string of curses.

“Well, it worked for Kirk and Spock.” Frank muttered.

“Fuck you both.” Patrick said before storming out of the bus, slamming the door behind him.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally suck at smut, but whatever. I debated doing this bit at all, but I had to. It's the cliche way to fix the problem and *gasp!* it DIDN'T WORK!!!!!! What will they do next?!?!?!!!
> 
> So, unless this plot bunny escapes it's pen, there should only be two more chapters, one of which I have written.


	6. Pity Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ain't no party like a Warped Tour party, because a Warped Tour party is not bound by normal physical parameters and thus don't stop.

Patrick glowered into his red solo cup of coca-cola, standing half in the shadow cast by the bonfire, on the edge of the party. Mikey and Pete had ended up convincing him into going, with pleading eyes and promises of fun. He’d mostly hung out with them though both bands were present and accounted for among the crowd of various band members and techs. He hadn’t felt like doing anything more than moping after the afternoon’s experiment failed. He was embarrassed, disappointed and still a little peeved at Gerard and Frank. 

Pete and Mikey had just about given up on trying to cheer him up and the others at the party were taking one look at his sour face and giving him a wide berth. Pete had noted, with some amount of admiration, that while he was in Gerard’s body his bitch face was still all his own. Patrick was at the end of his second cup of soda and was getting tired of watching the flames and people. He decided to get one more cup before he made his escape for the night. 

Patrick filled his cup with more cola and turned away from the drink table, bumping into someone, causing his drink to slosh out of his cup and onto both of them. The kid jumped back with a shriek. 

“Holy smokes! I am so so sorry!” Patrick said.

“It’s ok, honest mistake.” the kid said, pulling his wet tshirt away from his stomach with a grimace. 

He was tall and thin with legs that went on for days wrapped in tight denim, a silk scarf tied around his knee. He had a pretty face, half hidden by a curtain of hair. Patrick turned back to the table and grabbed a handful of napkins, awkwardly shoving them towards him, burning with embarrassment, then gasping in surprise as he realized who he’d run into. 

“William?” he said, voice coming out in a high squeal.

He hadn’t known William Beckett and his band would be joining the tour, the last he knew they were back home in Chicago. Patrick’s mind raced, trying to think if Gerard would know him. Probably not. William just narrowed his eyes at him and shook his hair out of his eyes before accepting the wad of paper towels They spounged at their shirts in silence for a moment, but the sticky mess was a lost cause. 

“I am so sorry!” Patrick said, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“It’s ok, man. Accidents happen! I was getting hot anyways.” William said with a wry smile. 

Patrick tossed his paper towels into a nearby trash can, along with the soggy wad William handed him. 

“Here, let me refill your cup. What were you drinking, coke?” William said, gently stuttering.

“Yeah, cola please. Thanks.” he said, giving William his cup. 

Bill poured them both more soda. He didn’t spike either cup before turning from the table, motioning with a jerk of his head for Patrick to follow. 

“Where do you want to sit?” William asked. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know.” 

“How about by the fire? We’ll dry off faster.” 

“Uh, sure, sounds good.” Patrick agreed. 

Patrick followed him to a group of chairs close to the fire, taking back the solo cup after sitting down. He mumbled his thanks and took a large gulp. He noticed Joe nearby, making wide gestures with his hands as he talked to Hayley Williams. His mind raced, still shocked that he’d run into William, relief filling him. William could help! Oh god, he could definitely help, this is what they’d been looking for all week long. But how should he ask for help?

“It’s a fun party.” William said, pulling his attention back in. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess it is.” 

“So, My Chem? You guys are from New Jersey, right?” Bill asked.

“William, oh my god, I don’t even know how to tell you this, but you’re a telepath, right?” Patrick asked, voice low.

“Shhh!” William hissed, finger pushing against his lips, “Don’t say that so loudly!” 

William wasn’t as open as other metas about his abilities as very few people trusted telepaths. Patrick didn’t mind, he knew William well enough to trust him though they hadn’t hung out in some time. He focused a thought in William’s direction, trying to project his mental voice loud and clear.

_ “Bilvy, it’s me!”  _ he thought, thinking of his face. 

“Patrick?!” William asked, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Yes!” Patrick said, grinning.

“But you’re… Oh my god, what the hell happened to you?! And is Gerard...” 

“Me? Yeah.” Patrick said, nodding.

“Oh my god. How long?” 

“Since Sunday. We've been trying to find a way to undo this! We’ve been looking for a telepath, but haven’t found anyone, and then I bumped into you!” 

“I don’t know if I can, but if you tell me what happened maybe I can help.” 

“Yes! Please! Um, can we talk about this somewhere else though, with less people around?” 

“Definitely, your bus?”

Patrick agreed, texting Gerard and Pete to meet them there. Gerard showed up at the FOB bus only a few minutes after they did with a tipsy Pete and Mikey hot on his heels, Frank trailing behind them. 

“Bilvy Beckett! Long time no see!” Pete exclaimed, reaching out to shake his hand and pulling him into a hug halfway through the gesture, “Dude! I didn't know you were going to be here! We’ve been looking for a telepath all week!” 

“Pete, man! Good to see you! I would have told you we were coming, but it was super last minute, so we decided to surprise you!” 

“You’re a telepath?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, I don’t usually go around telling people though. Too many people don’t trust me if they know.” William said. 

“It’s a badass ability, man.” Gerard said.

“Thanks. So what happened to you guys? How did the switch happen?” Bill asked.

Together they told William about their ill fated ice cream run, answering his questions as they went. 

“So the last person that you had a picture with touched both of you, right? And then you blacked out after accidentally touching each other?” 

“Yeah, that about sums it up.” Gerard said. 

“Hmm, I think she did it, without realizing it. Maybe she’s just getting her ability? How old do you think she was?”

“Uh, 12 or 13 maybe. Just a kid.” Patrick said, nodding along. 

“Yeah, if she just developed the ability and can’t control it yet, that would explain it.” Bill said.

“Fanfuckingtastic.” Pete muttered, exasperated at the thought of a young meta with that power uncontrolled.

William ignored him and continued.

“Well, I haven’t ever done this before, but I could try to swap your psyches back into their own bodies. They obviously want to be back, you’re both dreaming of yourselves as the right you, and psychically you don’t quite… fit. Switching you shouldn’t be too difficult.” 

“Yes, please! I am ready to be myself again!” Patrick said.

He couldn’t help but think back bitterly to the afternoon’s disastrous attempt to switch them, hoping that this attempt would actually work. He felt a twinge of apprehension. He didn’t want Gerard in his head, not after he’d betrayed his trust, taken advantage of him, lied to him. He was desperate to be himself again, but he really, really, didn’t want Gerard to see how hurt he felt.

Patrick looked up to find Bill regarding him with pinched lips and a drawn brow, looking between him, Gerard, and Frank, who were a little pink in the cheeks. 

“Wait, what did you do?” Bill asked, eyes narrowing at Gerard and Frank. 

“We messed up.” Gerard said with a sigh.

“I am so sorry, Patrick! We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! Really!” Frank said, looking at Patrick with wide, earnest eyes.

“Oh my god, you two slept with Patrick Stump?!” William exclaimed, looking incredulous, impressed, and then incensed in the span of three seconds. 

Patrick ducked his head, knowing his face was bright red. 

“They only did it to switch back,” Patrick said, letting the venom slip into his tone.

“No! It’s not like that!” Frank protested.

Patrick sent him a glare, daring him to protest.

“Wait, so let me get this right,” William said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Patrick, you’re mad at them because they didn’t tell you why they wanted in your pants?”

Patrick nodded, still blushing.

Frank opened his mouth to protest, and Pete took a menacing step towards him, but Bill stopped them both with a raised finger.

“And you two seduced him without telling him that you hoped it would switch him back? Why?” William continued, clearly unimpressed with them.

“We weren’t sure that it would work,” Gerard said, waving his hands as he spoke, “We didn’t want to get his hopes up if it didn’t work. And… We, I, didn’t want him to think that we only wanted to get off with him because it might switch us. We really did want him for him, honest. I’m so sorry, Patrick! We should have told you, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured or anything. The last thing that I wanted was to take away your consent! But we, I, messed up.”

“You messed up alright.” Pete scoffed.

William ignored him again, turning to Frank with a raised eyebrow.

“Please believe us! We wouldn’t have even approached him if I didn’t think he’d be down for it! We like him, and he’s hot, and yeah, I hoped it would switch him, but it was more than that. I mean, look at him, he’s hot both as himself and as Gee, and he’s so smart and talented, who wouldn’t want to sleep with him?” 

“You really would have without the switch?” Patrick asked, feeling shocked and just a little bit better. 

“Yeah.” 

“Fuck yeah!”

Gerard and Frank both said at the same time.

“They’re telling the truth.” Bill said.

“You guys are dumbasses.” Patrick said, making Mikey snort, his lips twitching into a small smile.

They both nodded in agreement. 

“Apology accepted, dumbasses.” Patrick said.

They both beamed at him, and Frank stepped forward to hug him, which he accepted with a small huff. He felt his heart tug just a bit, relieved that he was actually wanted for himself. He wouldn’t admit it of course, but he was very flattered that they’d want him like that. On his part, he knew that most of his attraction stemmed from being in Gerard’s body for the week, but he couldn’t deny enjoying the experience. He rarely trusted anyone to get that close. A thought flashed across his mind that had him pushing the other two away so that he could see their faces.

“Wait, wait, this doesn’t mean that you’re like, in love with me, or anything, does it?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at them.

“What?! No! I mean, you're great but I just like you as a friend.” Gerard said.

“Nah man, sometime’s a bj is just a friendly bj between friends to let out some steam. Hot, sexy, friends. No love needed, except for the physical kind.” Frank said with a wink.

“Ok, good. I'm really not into guys you know.”

Patrick believed him, though he did question the sappy look Frank then sent in Gerard’s direction. Feelings were definitely involved, but thankfully not in his direction. 

“As nice and disturbing as all this is, can you, like, switch them back now? I’d kind of like to have my Patrick back.” Pete interjected, sending William a pleading look. 

Bill rolled his eyes but laughed before nodding in agreement.

“I can’t promise it’ll work, but I can try, if you two want.” Bill said, looking to first Patrick and then Gerard.

“Fuck yeah. It can’t hurt to try.” Gerard said.

“Yes, please!” Patrick agreed.

“Ok!” Bill said, cracking his hands in front of him, “Let’s give this a shot. Patrick, Gerard, can I have you two sit next to each other on the couch?”

Gerard obligingly gave up his seat at the table to take Pete’s place next to Patrick on the couch. At Bill’s instruction they held hands. Patrick couldn’t help but blush, feeling a little bit of deja vu from earlier in the afternoon. From the way Gerard’s cheek’s pinked, he must have had a similar thought. Bill stood in front of them, placing two fingers on each of their foreheads.

“It might help you get into your head’s a little more if you close your eyes.” Bill instructed, voice smooth and calm. 

They both closed their eyes. Patrick took in a shaky breath, feeling nervous. He trusted Bill in his head, knew he wouldn’t look at anything Patrick didn’t want him to see unless he had to in order to get them switched. Gerard had trusted him with his life, and he’d trusted his to Gerard, now that they’d talked out their misunderstanding he was willing to let the other man have a look into his brain. He felt anxious, almost afraid to hope that this would work. 

_ “Good, good. Now, I’m in both of your minds, are you both ok with that?” _

_ “Yes.” _ Patrick pushed the thought out.

_ “Whoa, sssh, you can just think normally and we’ll all hear them, trying to shove thoughts like that is like shouting and will only wear you out. Gerard, what about you?”  _ Bill thought.

_ “Yeah, I’m good.” _ his thought came through at a more normal volume. 

The blackness behind Patrick’s eyes took on shape and depth before becoming light like the sky just before dawn. William appeared, tall and lanky, looking at them seriously from behind his brown mop of hair. Patrick looked over and saw Gerard sitting next to him on the couch, their hands still clasped between them. Gerard looked like his normal self and a quick glance down showed Patrick that he did as well. He felt incorporeal, like he might float away at a moments notice. 

_ “Good, you both have retained your sense of self even though you’re in each other’s bodies.” _ William said.

_ “Where are we? What kind of a place is this?” _ Gerard asked, looking around in wonder.

_ “Oh, it’s a mental construct, in my head. Don’t worry about it, it’s not the important thing here. I need to get you both to focus on yourselves so we can get you switched back.” _ William said, cupping his chin in his hand and regarding them with narrowed eyes.

Patrick noticed that in the construct Bill’s light stutter had completely disappeared. 

_ “Yes, that’s because we’re in a mental construct and can hear each other’s thoughts.”  _ William explained with a sigh.

_ “Oh. Sorry.” _ Patrick replied, blushing.

_ “It’s fine. Now, let’s try something.” _

_ “I’m ready!” _ Gerard said, leaning forward. 

_ “I’ve pulled your psyche’s into my head, so let’s get them back into the right bodies. I don’t want to hurt you by just stuffing you back in, I’ll need your help. I want you to focus on how your bodies should feel. Let’s start with your feet. Concentrate on wiggling your toes.” _ Bill said.

Patrick concentrated, brow furrowed, and while he saw his toes ove he didn’t actually feel anything. From the frustration he felt rolling off of Gee, he was having similar luck. 

_ “Ok, I need you both to tap into Patrick’s aptitude. Use your mind, imagine you’re pouring yourself back into your body. Use your will, like you would when you’re using your ability.” _ William explained. 

They both tried again. This time Patrick concentrated like he would when using his ability, focusing his mind and will, commanding his body to move. He imagined his feet anchoring him to the earth and mentally stepped into his body. A slight tingle started in his toes and ran through his foot as he slowly gained awareness of the limb. He moved his toes, feeling them curl at his mental command.

_ “It’s working!” _ he exclaimed, relief and joy flowing out.

_ “I can feel my feet too!” _ Gerard said, and Patrick could feel his satisfaction and relief bleed into his own. 

_ “Good! Now focus on your legs.” _ William encouraged, kneeling in front of them to place his hands on their knees, concentration making furrows appear on his brow. 

Focusing on his legs seemed easier now that he had the knack of it. Patrick focused on his legs, tensing his muscles, flexing his knees, surprised when his foot kicked out to smack into Bill’s stomach. William grimaced, and then repeated the gesture when Gerard’s foot caught him as well. 

_ “It’s fine! I’m fine, mental construct, remember? Keep going, you’re both doing great.” _ William said, smiling up at them. 

Patrick shook his head and focused in again, thrilled as feeling flooded into his thighs. He continued up his body, slowly feeling nerves, remembering the feel of the bulk between his legs. He was distracted, however, when Bill sharply addressed Gerard. 

_ “No, no, focus, Gerard!” _

Patrick looked down, confused, and for a split second saw Frank in William’s face, remembering Frank kneeling in front of them earlier that day, for a very different reason. He remembered how foreign Gerard’s body had felt, so different, yet so similar to his own, and felt his cock twitch. Bill pinched both of them where his hand rested on the outside of their hips, his eyes stern.

_ “Focus on yourself, both of you! You want your own body back, remember?” _

The reprimand was enough to shake them out of it and focus them back on the task on hand. For a moment embarrassment came off Gerard in a roll of heat, and Patrick felt a flash of the same, but William pushed it away and focused them back into themselves. 

Patrick paused as he got to his stomach, unexpectedly hesitant as he realized that he’d be trading Gerard’s leaner body for the fluff on his middle.

_ “Patrick?” _ Bill asked, looking up at him in confusion.

Patrick blushed and looked away, to Gerard’s pale, but flatter stomach. 

_ “Oh,” _ William said, understanding dawning.

Gerard stopped as well, turning to him in confusion.

_ “Patrick, everyone has something that they don’t love about their body, but it’s yours, man. You want it back.” _ William said softly.

Patrick sighed, thinking enviously of William’s thin figure, the thought popping up for them all to hear that Bill didn’t exactly have the same point of reference to speak on the matter.

_ “Hey, a little bit of fat is nothing to be ashamed of. I used to have plenty of it myself. Now I just have stretch marks, I know you noticed them.” _ Gerard said, understanding.

Patrick nodded, feeling bad about his insecurities.

_ “No, it’s ok, William’s right, everyone has something about themselves they don’t like. It’s just the way it is. It’s part of you, but it doesn’t define you, ok? You’re an awesome dude, and anyone that thinks less of you for your weight isn’t worth it. Fuck ‘em.”  _

_ “Yeah, thanks.” _ Patrick said, sending Gerard a small smile.

Together, they remembered the feel of their stomachs, embracing their bodies, stretch marks and fluff notwithstanding. Feeling moved up Patrick’s chest, and into his arms. He smiled as he felt his fingers, flexing them, embracing the calluses on their tips, yearning for the feel of his guitar in his hands. Playing as Gerard just hadn’t been the same. He could tell that Gerard was just as eager to pick up his pens and use his own fingers to bring his drawings to life. He squeezed Gerard’s hand, still clasped in his, a smile stretching across his face as he felt him squeeze back firm and sure. A feeling of triumph hung between them.  _ They were doing this! _

_ “You guys are doing great! We’re almost there,” _ William said, smiling at them, his hands moving from their necks to gently cup the back of their heads,  _ “Now for the tricky part. Just keep focusing on yourselves.” _

Feeling moved up his neck, and he licked his lips, feeling them rough and familiar beneath his tongue. His mouth was dry, but was blessedly free of the lingering taste of ash and nicotine he’d become used to in the last few days. His heart beat faster with the realization that he was close, so close, to being himself again. He felt almost complete. 

William leaned in closer, pulling both of them in as well, their foreheads gently bumping. Patrick slowly comprehended the feeling, and for the first time during the process, he realized that Bill was actually touching them outside of the mental construct as well as within it. He felt antsy, eager to be fully himself again, and panicky, still just a little bit afraid that this might not work and he’d open his eyes and find himself as Gerard once more.  He could feel the same fear coming from Gerard. 

_ “Focus, focus, we’re almost there.” _ William whispered, and Patrick felt the words vibrate through him, in and out of the mental construct.

The mental construct had narrowed down to just barely encompass the three of them. Patrick felt his awareness of it fade as he focused on shifting into his body. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the light fading into darkness. He could feel Gerard next to him, in his mind, and him in his, making him feel full, closed in, too much. He pushed away, trying to fit the last drops of himself into his own skin and felt a peculiar sensation, like the squeeze that happens when you pass someone else in a too tight space, and then he was free of it,the sound of his heavy breathing echoing in his ears, finally back into his body where he belonged. Alone. 

His eyes blinked open to find Gerard’s staring back at him, green and tear bright, on the other, correct side of his glasses. They weren’t in the mental construct anymore, they were really sitting together on the couch, though this time he was back in his proper body. Patrick couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face. 

William sat back on his heels, a satisfied grin on his own face, though his eyes looked tired, as he moved his hands away from the back of their heads to settle clasped in his lap. 

“Gee?” Mikey asked, stepping forward, hope shining in his eyes.

“Yeah, Mikey, it’s me.” Gerard said, voice breaking as he surged up to meet his brother, unsteady on his feet.

Mikey caught his brother and pulled him in for a hug. Patrick’s attention was drawn away from the heartwarming sight as Pete latched onto him, Patrick’s name slipping from his friend’s lips like a reverent mantra. Patrick held him close as he shook in his arms and leaked tears onto his shoulder. He held on tight, ignoring the moisture flowing from his own eyes, feeling lightheaded with relief. 

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, ‘Trick.” Pete mumbled into his shoulder.

“Oh, believe me, one body swap per lifetime is more than enough for me.” Patrick said, laughing through his tears. 

They broke apart as the bus door flew open, admitting Andy and Ray. Pete gave Patrick a hand up, and Patrick took a few shaky steps forward to collapse into Andy’s strong arms. He’d missed his friend, even though they had talked and texted, it hadn’t been quite the same. 

“It’s good to have you back, Patrick.” Andy said, soft and true. 

“I never want to do that again. Ever.” he said. 

While Patrick hugged Andy, Pete turned to William, extending a hand to where he still sat in the middle of the floor, helping pull the taller man to his feet. 

“So, Bilvy, that was fucking creepy dude.” Pete said, eyes wide, though he was bouncing on his heels in excitement.

“You’re welcome, Pete. It worked.” William said dryly before blowing him a raspberry. 

Pete just laughed, a genuine, happy burst of the first real laughter he’d had in a week, and pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks man, I owe you one.”

“Hell yeah! Nah, I’m happy to do it. You should have called me sooner, man. I would have come.” he said, holding him tight for a moment before letting go. 

“I didn’t want you to have to come all this way I know you’re busy. Well, hopefully there won’t be a next time, because that would fucking suck, but if there is, you’ll be the first one I call.” Pete said. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” William said, laughing. 

While they were talking Joe and Bob had come in and collected their hugs. The MCR guys hadn’t met William so he was introduced to Ray and Bob, and hailed as a hero. Bill seemed relieved when there was a knock on the door. Andy answered it to reveal Sisky Business and The Butcher, holding bottles of vodka, Jack Daniel’s, and a case of beer, respectively. 

“Heeeeey! A little telepathic birdie told me you guys are in need of a mind swap celebration party!” Sisky exclaimed, lifting the bottles of vodka high with a smile. 

Patrick stiffened in alarm, trading wide eyed glances with Gerard. The rest of the room regarded them with either fearful or stony looks. After a week of secrecy, having it all yelled out like that was just a little jarring, particularly when half the room didn’t know the guy.

“Dude. Keep your voice down, will you? It was a secret.” Andy said, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh, sorry, sure.” he said, looking sheepish. 

“It’s ok, they know better than to blab around, right guys?” Bill said.

They both nodded eagerly. Pete just rolled his eyes, and Patrick and the rest of his band relaxed, though Gerard and his still looked concerned. Frank in particular looked ready to commit murder, if needed, or start a fight at the least, so William stepped forward. 

“Great, that’s settled then,” William said, looking around the room with a firm smile, before gesturing to his bandmates, “Oh, My Chem, these are my degenerate bandmates, Adam, otherwise known as Sisky Biz, and Andy, otherwise known as the Butcher. They already know who you are.”

“‘Sup.” the Butcher said, lifting his open beer in salute.

“Who wants a celebratory drink?!” Sisky asked.

“Hell yeah!” Joe said, stepping forward eagerly to take a beer off of the Butcher. 

This was enough to break the ice and establish the after party. Pete pulled out some mixers and the party was underway. Gerard rushed outside, Frank hot on his heels, ecstatic at the prospect of finally having a smoke. Joe and the Butcher followed, intent on smoking a slightly different substance. Sisky set Bill up with a glass of mostly vodka and a splash of orange juice, and  settled into the living room with Pete, Mikey, Andy and a deck of cards. Mike Carden made an appearance not long after. Patrick escaped to the backroom, itching to get his hands on his guitar, dragging Ray behind him. He let out a sigh of relief once he had it’s silver weight in his arms. A few others from the tour straggled in and out, and the bus was filled with the laughter of Patrick’s close friend’s.

“Patrick! Patrick, I need you!” Pete exclaimed, bursting into the backroom a little while later, Mikey peeking in from over one shoulder, and Sisky leaning over the other.

Patrick broke off the chord he’d been strumming, while Ray finished the chorus out with a flourish on one of Joe’s guitars. Pete had a wide grin on his face that only meant one thing- trouble. Usually with a large dose of fun. 

“Pete, you know you’re charm speak doesn’t work on me, right?” Patrick said, smiling fondly at his friend.

“So, your ability bank hasn’t been erased then, huh?” Pete asked, mischief gleaming in his eyes. 

“Nope.” Patrick said, grinning, the word flaring bright blue in the air between them. 

His return to his body had brought back his synthesia, one of his first learned abilities, thanks to his dad. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the extra layer of color on the world. He figured that meant the rest of his learned abilities would be there as well. 

“Well in that case, you’d be able to duel Andy.” Pete said, matter of factly.

Patrick groaned, but Ray looked intrigued. Pete was happy to explain.

“Yeah! You know Joe’s got TK, right? And Andy has sound manipulation, which means he can shoot shit right out of the air! It’s awesome! It takes a bit of skill and aim and shit though.”

“Someone got hurt last time we did that, remember Pete?” Patrick said, feeling duty bound to put up a fuss, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He was actually kind of excited to stretch his ability after almost a week of not using it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. You won’t let me forget,” Pete said, waving his concern away and shooting Ray a smile, “It’s not a problem now though, we’ve got Ray here!”

“Yeah, I can heal people if anything happens, as long as it’s not too major.” Ray said, catching onto Pete’s enthusiasm, which was just slightly on purpose on Pete’s end. 

“Come on Patrick, I already bet twenty bucks on you winning.” Mikey said. 

“Oh god. Who’d you bet against?” Patrick moaned. 

“Sorry man, I bet on Andy, you’ve had a week to get rusty.” Sisky said, sending him an apologetic smile. 

“C’mon! You know you want to!” Pete said, smile wide and infectious. 

“What happened to your card game?” Patrick asked.

“Never play poker with a telepath.” Mikey said, voice wry, making the other’s laugh.

Patrick let himself be drug outside, to find that Andy and Joe had already set up and the rest of the group was hanging around, eager for the showdown.Not that they were just standing around waiting, of course. Gerard and the Butcher were deep in a conversation on art, Gee had pulled out his sketchpad and was showing the drummer how his power worked. Mike Carden materialized behind Frank with a roar, making him jump and scream, then double over in laughter. Mikey reached out a hand and caused a vine to grow, tangling around Mike’s leg’s, getting him back for his little invisibility stunt. 

Joe and Andy have settled on opposite sides of an empty space between the back of their bus and the bus next to them, and the others crowded behind Andy and Patrick. Mikey and Pete clambered up onto their buses roof for a better view, and Frank climbed up onto Bob’s shoulder’s. Sisky went to stand behind Joe, who had stacks of red and blue solo cups by his feet. 

“Ok, everyone! Here’s what’s what,” Joe said, commanding the group’s attention, “I’m going to levitate the cups, and they’re going to try to shoot them out of the air. Sisky’s going to ref and score keep, and turn back time for an instant replay if needed. Each cup that they blast is worth a point. Patrick, you try for orange blasts, Andy, try for green. Only rule, don’t hit me or Sisky or negative points will occur. Capiche?”

“Yeah, yeah, that was one time, Joe!” Andy said. 

“It was more than once! And it hurt like a bitch!” Joe complained.

“You’re a bitch!” Andy threw back, the taunt playful.

“Your mom’s a bitch.” Joe snarked.

“Ok! Let’s get started!” Patrick said, lifting his hands. 

Joe lifted his hands and the stacks of cups rose into the air, two of them seperating from the bunch and zipping into the air, towards them. Both Andy and Patrick clapped their hands, sending bursts of colorful concussive energy towards the cups. Both hit their marks, to the cheers of their friends. Joe kept the cups coming, sending several towards them at once, making sure the targets were in constant motion so they’d be harder to hit, and swiping away bursts of energy that missed their marks and headed towards him and Sisky. Sisky kept up a running commentary that had the other’s laughing, as he kept track of points. 

Despite not using Andy’s ability for a week, Patrick wasn’t that far behind him in points. After a few minutes, Joe’s stack of cups was dwindling, and he stopped throwing out so many at once. He pushed two towards them, the kips flipping and spinning in an unpredictable pattern. Patrick and Andy both sent out several claps of energy that missed their mark, one of Patrick’s missing by barely an inch. Andy was trying to guess the trajectory of one of the cups, but his attempts at an aimed shot weren’t working. 

Patrick sent out a large, loud burst of orange energy, then lifted both hands and swirled them through the air, pulling both cups out of Joe’s telekinetic grip and into the path of his kinetic burst, which blasted through both of them. 

“Patrick! What the fuck?!” Andy yelled, turning towards his bandmate in disbelief.

“Dude!” Joe called, hands on his hips.

“That’s cheating man! Not cool!” Andy said.

“Joe said the only rule was not hitting him.” Patrick said with a shrug. 

This, of course, had Joe rolling his eyes and Pete howling with laughter, as Mikey grabbed him, making sure he didn’t fall off the roof. Frank cheered for Patrick, and was joined by several of the others, while a few others yelled that he’d cheated and should lose points.

“Two points for the Stumpster!!!” Sisky declared to a mixed assortment of cheers and boos from their audience. 

“And rule two, no powers except for audiokinesis from you two!” Joe added, raising more cups into the air. 

Once the cups were all blasted out of the air, Sisky declared Andy the winner by three cups. Patrick shook hands with him, laughing, not at all bothered by loosing. A grin stretched across his face and he felt better than he’d felt all week. It was good to be himself again. 

Bill clapped him on the back, “Nice job, man! That was close! Can I get you a drink, or a beer?”

Patrick thought about it for a second. He hadn’t had anything as Gerard, and while he had been straight edge for a while, for the last few months he had indulged in a drink here or there. He decided he didn’t need one, he was having enough fun without it, soda was fine. Bill picked up on his thought process, and just nodded in understanding. 

“Sure man, I’ll grab you a coke then.” he said, ambling off to get Patrick  drink.

Patrick made his way towards the bus door, intent on joining Bob and the Butcher’s conversation on drum kits when a voice called his name. He turned towards it and paled, seeing Brian stepping towards him. 

“Hey, I see you found William!” Brian said. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ve known William for a while.” he said, trying to keep the fact that he was panicking off his face, knowing he was probably failing, as his brain went into overdrive. 

How did MCR’s manager know William? Why was Brian interested in him finding the telepath? Brian just narrowed his eyes at hm, expressio inscrutable.

“Have you guys switched yet?” he asked, taking a sip from his solo cup.

“What? Switched? What?” Patrick said, really panicking now.

Brian just sighed. 

“You have, good. Next time you guys run into a situation, just let your manager know, we’re not going to let you guys get sent home, ok?” Brian said.

Patrick could only nod, eyes wide. He had no idea how Brian had figured it out, but he was extremely grateful that he wasn’t getting chewed out.

“Great. Anytime you want to hang out with us, you’re welcome, Patrick. It was nice having you around this week.”

“Thanks?” Patrick squeaked out as Brian turned to leave.

“Oh, and if you get Gerard coffee, keep in mind that he likes less sugar in it than you do.” Brian threw the bit of advice at him as he disappeared around the corner.

“OH. Oh.” Patrick said, things falling into place. 

Pete and Mikey climbed down from the bus, landing next to him as they jumped the last few feet. 

“Duuude. That went so much better than it could have.” Pete said, eyes wide as he looked in the direction the manager had disappeared. 

“Tell me about it!” Patrick said, leaning into his friend in relief.

“Yeah, Brian’s pretty cool.” Mikey said with a shrug. 

“Being Gerard was fun and all, but I’m glad to be me again.” Patrick said, smiling.

“Amen to that!” Gerard said, coming around the side of the bus with two cups in his hands, offering one to Patrick, “William asked me to give this to you.”

“Oh, thanks.” Patrick said, taking the cup.

“While I’m super glad we’ve got Patrick back, we’re going to miss you, Gee. Come hang out with us sometime, ok?” Pete said.  

“Yeah, of course! I promised Andy I’d share some comics with him.” Gerard said, smiling.

“Same goes for you, Patrick. Don’t be a stranger.” Mikey said, tossing his hair.

“I can do that.” Patrick said, smile stretching across his face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while, this was the only chapter I didn't have completely written and it took a bit to get it just right! That was important for obvious reasons. I hope you liked how that turned out! Brian totally figured that shit out and pulled some strings to get TAI... sent in!
> 
> Just an epilogue left, thanks for reading!


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, here's the last little bit! Just a last taste of fluff and nonsense!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! A special shout out to @Demon_Queen1 for your kind comments and encouragement, I really appreciate it! 
> 
> This little plot bunny totally took on a life of its own and became a rather large plot bunny! It basically boils down to Patrick becoming more confidant, and feeling loved. I love all these band dudes and had lots of fun writing them, and I hope you've enjoyed the journey too!

Two weeks after Patrick and Gerard switched back, Mikey Way showed up on the FOB bus about ten minutes before bus call. 

“Hey man, what’s up?” Patrick asked from his spot on the couch next to Joe. 

Mikey leaned his bony hip against the doorway and grinned at him, eyes shining with mischief beneath his thick glasses frames. 

“I’m here for a kidnapping.” 

Patrick smiled back weakly, fighting back an unexpected bite of jealousy. 

“Oh, cool. Pete’s in the lounge I think.” 

Mikey let out a quick huff of laughter.

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t come to snatch him though. Come on, let’s go. Consider yourself kidnapped.” he said, long fingers encircling Patrick’s wrist.

Patrick just blinked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“Dude, he’s trying to kidnap you. Go, before we inadvertently kidnap him when the bus starts rolling.” Joe said, rolling his eyes.

“But I don’t have anything packed!” Patrick said.

“You can use our stuff. Come on, we want to have a jam session. We miss you. Bob’s setting up the Xbox and everything.” Mikey said, tugging him to his feet.

Patrick let himself be drug to the other bus, a smile on his face. 

“Not to complain or anything, but I have no idea what’s on the schedule for tomorrow, or if I’ll be missed.” Patrick said, surrying to keep up with Mikey’s longer legs. 

“Nah, you’re good.” Ray cleared everything through Brian who talked to your manager. We have one interview on our way tomorrow, but you guys were going to drive straight through. We’ll meet up for dinner tomorrow.”

They rounded the corner to find Frank and Gerard lounging against the MCR bus smoking. Frank rushed forward to envelop Patrick in a hug.

“‘Trick! It’s good to see you, man!” 

Patrick returned the hug with a laugh.

“I just saw you at lunch, Frank.” 

“Yeah, but that was just a hello. I can’t believe you let us kidnap you!”

“Well, Mikey didn’t give me much of a choice.” 

“Admit it, you wanted to be kidnapped.” Ray said, sticking his head out of the bus, pulling him into a hug and then into the bus.

With pink cheeks, Patrick had to admit that he had, and he was glad they did. They were all happy to see him. Being with MCR again was nice, even better now that he was back in his own body and Gerard was there. It was a little odd seeing the bus from a perspective a few inches shorter. 

They stayed up late laughing and joking, playing video games and then a rousing round of DnD. They had pizza, chips, soda, and other munchies. Patrick felt right at home. They crashed in the wee hours of the night, which Patrick knew wasn’t that usual for them and was for his benefit. It made him feel loved. He knew his band cared, having the MCR guys care as well really warmed his heart. 

Frank lent him some pj’s, mostly clean, and Bob was able to scrounge up a fresh toothbrush for him. Patrick was ready to bed down on the couch but Gerard kindly gave him his bunk, opting to share with Mikey to make room for him. Patrick flipped the bird at Frank for laughing at him after fumbling on his first attempt at getting into the bunk because it was at a different height than his brain remembered. 

He slept well, and woke late in the morning with memories of being pulled into a shared dream where they were all wolves, running through a snow filled forrest, howling at the moon. He was the last one awake and slid seamlessly into the mix. Being on a bus with the Way brothers meant coffee was plentiful. Mikey and Bob were duking it out on Call of Duty, Ray was noodling out a quiet melody on the bus acoustic. 

Frank and Gerard sat at the table, Frank eating while peeking over Gerard’s shoulder at his sketchpad. Patrick joined them at the tiny table, accepting the box of rice crispies from Frank. He laughed at Gerard’s sketches of them as werewolves, asking for a fedora for his sketch. Gerard was happy to oblige. Frank stole a pencil and started doodling as well. With a little bit of concentration, Patrick was able to draw on Gerard’s power and materialize a few of his doodles, much to their amusement. Gerard showed him how to animate some sketches on the page, much to Patrick’s delight when he made Frank’s mummy sketch shuffle across the page, a crudely drawn bat fluttering after him. 

The day stretched out peacefully, a nice switch in his on the road routine. Patrick spent some time jamming with Ray, with the others joining in. Jamming with them was more fun when he was himself, and they were all impressed when he was able to duplicate Andy’s power, sending out a shower of color when he played. At one point, someone proposed that he should play something with them during their set the next day and he readily agreed. It was determined that he would drum for them. That prompted a serious discussion of the setlist and some freaking out on his part when he realized that he had about a day to learn the drum line. The rest of them just laughed at his panic. 

“Come on, Patrick, it’s just drumming for one song, it’ll be a piece of cake for you. You’ve done more before. Don’t sweat it.” Gerard said. 

“Sure, but that was singing! I haven’t seriously drummed in forever!”

He had to concede Gerard was right, but that didn’t make him less nervous. He was also excited. 

They reached their destination just in time for the radio interview. Patrick filed off the bus with the rest of the band but happily stretched his legs and then hung out in the waiting room while they went on the air. He listened in to the interview happily, making small conversation with Matt. 

After they were done at the radio station they headed over to a local restaurant to meet up with his band. Brian had found one with vegan options making both Frank and Andy very happy. His band pulled into the parking lot minutes after they did and Patrick found himself crammed in a large booth between Joe and Bob, across from Mikey and Pete, who were obviously playing footsie under the table. Ray was in an animated conversation with Andy about vegan food at the end of the table. Frank and Gerard sat next to them, with Frank switching between butting in to give his observations on veganism, and then interrupting Gerard’s debate on fuzz pedals with Joe. 

Patrick looked around at the combination of the two bands gathered around the large table and he felt at home, happiness rushing through him.  


End file.
